Disenchanted
by SkylarEQuinn
Summary: ChemVerse. Human AU. When Arthur Kirkland decides to end his life, he is put in a psychiatric unit of a hospital. He didn't expect to make friends with EDO patient Alfred F. Jones so quickly, and he especially didn't expect the relationship that formed between the two of them. Will it really last? Or will Arthur just end up heartbroken again?
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Please review if you enjoy the story!_

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 _Mid-May, 2015, University of Iowa Hospitals and Clinics, Iowa City, Iowa_

Arthur Kirkland sighed as he was wheeled onto the psychiatric unit, 1 JP West. Just what he needed, to be transferred to another part of the hospital, to the psych ward. He was greeted with some manic patient shouting at the entrance.

"Now, Arthur," the nurse began, "we have you under EDO protocol because you are under a very strict diet." If he were able to open his mouth wider than an inch after having it wired shut, Arthur would have interjected or made a sarcastic comment, but he just wasn't feeling it, so he stayed silent. "Luckily for you, we have another male EDO on the unit, so you two will be roommates."

Arthur rolled his eyes. Just what he needed. He just hoped this one wouldn't bombard him with the usual questions. "What happened to your jaw?" "Did you really shoot yourself?" "How did you survive that?" When people did things like that, it made him feel even less lucky to be alive. He felt like a failure for not being able to succeed in ending his life, and he didn't need people talking to him about it to remind him that he had failed at the one thing that could've saved him from all other failures.

"We'll show you to your room, so you can get situated, but we're not comfortable with leaving you alone, and you're on observation starting today," the nurse stated. She smiled at Arthur. "Sorry, Art."

"It's Arthur," he huffed out, hoping she could hear the irritation in his voice. He hated that he had to be on some eating disorder protocol. He didn't have an _eating_ disorder. He had a _living_ disorder! Why couldn't he have just _died_?

"Sorry, Arthur," she corrected. "I'll remember that in the future." She opened the door to the first double bed room and there was a male patient in there by himself. "Alfred, are you supposed to be in here?"

The patient turned around. He was wearing a baggy hoodie and jeans with sneakers. To Arthur's surprise, he looked very physically fit despite the fact that he also looked incredibly thin. He wore thick-rimmed glasses and his blond hair stuck up a little in the front. His blue eyes lit up when he saw Arthur.

"Is this my new roommate?" he asked. He bounded over excitedly.

"Alfred, that didn't answer my question," the nurse reminded.

"Sue me," Alfred said with a shrug. "Aren't I always in places where I'm not supposed to be?" He grinned widely at Arthur and stuck out his hand. "How ya doin'? I'm Alfred Jones, your new roommate! I swear I'm not as crazy as most of the others here!"

Arthur let out a soft, uncomfortable laugh and shook Alfred's hand. "Arthur Kirkland," he greeted, using what little space he had to speak since his mouth wouldn't open much. "Pleasure."

"That looks painful," Alfred commented, rubbing his jaw to show what he meant by "painful".

Arthur slowly nodded. "It is." His emerald green eyes met with Alfred's eyes and he quickly looked away. He didn't like how happy Alfred looked. They were in a bloody psych ward! There was nothing to be happy about!

"Is he going to be sitting out in the day room all day, too?" Alfred asked the nurse, pointing at Arthur, who wanted to slap his hand away from his general direction.

"Yes," the nurse stated, nodding.

Alfred grinned at Arthur and put his hand down. "I'll save you a recliner next to mine. Since we have our disorders, we have to sit in recliners. I'll make sure you get the best one since you deserve it." He patted Arthur's shoulder and then left the room.

The nurse gave Arthur a sympathetic smile. "Al really does mean well," she said. "His brother Matthew has been working with him on social skills. I promise you'll get used to him. He's a real sweetheart." She frowned. "Arthur, do you want to talk about your situation?"

Arthur sighed. "I am humiliated," he said. "Mortified. My _classmates_ operated on me! I was supposed to be a surgeon! I should've just died!"

"Why did you try to kill yourself, Arthur?" the nurse asked him.

He worst question of them all, and she asked it so casually, as if asking what he thought of the weather outside. His throat felt tight as he thought of that night, thought of that phone call. He could still feel the pain of coming to and having to call emergency services himself. How he could barely talk because of all the blood in his mouth.

"Can we skip that for now?" he softly asked. "I do not wish to speak of it."

The nurse frowned. "It was that bad, wasn't it?"

"You try shooting yourself in the head and living through it," Arthur softly said. "It does more to you than you know…"

"I'm sorry, Arthur," she softly replied. "By the way, I'm Amber, and I'll be your nurse tonight."

Arthur nodded. "I'll go to the day room now…" He left the room and went to the day room.

There were a lot of people out there. The unit held twenty-two, and about half of them were out in the day room. And as promised, Alfred had saved a recliner for Arthur, patting the seat of it for Arthur to sit in.

Arthur sat, but he was secretly praying that Alfred wouldn't want to talk. He wasn't in the mood for conversation. Also, he wasn't sure he would be able to hold one due to his jaw and the pain. He just wanted to be alone, but that wasn't allowed there. Not after what he did.

"Hey, are you okay?" Alfred asked him. "You don't look so good." He looked closely at Arthur's jaw. "Breaking your jaw must really hurt. I'm sorry that it happened."

Arthur absently nodded. He really didn't want Alfred to ask further into how it broke or anything. He didn't want any of that. He didn't want anyone to know how he ended up there, but it was bound to come out sooner or later. Maybe he'd tell Alfred in a few days, but not now. For now, he'd just stay silent and wait for his pain medication.

Amber walked over with a computer on a cart. "Arthur, can I scan your wristband?" Arthur's eyes widened, but he gave her access to it. Amber pulled out a miniature scanner and scanned the barcode on his wristband. "Can I get a rating on your pain on a scale of one to ten, ten being the most pain you've felt in your entire life?"

Arthur thought for a moment. The most pain he'd felt in his life was waking up after shooting himself. Nothing could ever compare to feeling a bullet in your sinuses and your jaw shattered to tiny pieces, and knowing there was nothing you could do about that. After thinking for a moment, he held up seven fingers.

Amber frowned. "Oh, Arthur, I'm sorry." She opened a package and dropped two small medicine tablets into a small medicine cup and poured a small cup of water before handing both to Arthur. "Here you go. I hope you feel better soon."

"I won't," Arthur grumbled, taking them. He had a little trouble putting the two tablets in his mouth. Once he got them in, he drank the water to swallow them, having barely any trouble.

Amber smiled. "You good, Arthur?" She walked away after Arthur nodded.

Arthur sighed and sat back in his recliner, popping up the built in footrest. He stared at the TV for a moment before closing his eyes.

"I have a question for you, Arthur," Alfred said.

Arthur opened one eye to see Alfred looking closely at him. "What is it?" he asked cautiously before opening his other eye. He really hoped Alfred would end up being tolerable.

"You have an accent," Alfred observed. "It's interesting. Where are you from?"

"London," Arthur sighed out. "I'm British. Studying abroad." He sighed, thinking about how disappointed his family was in him for what he had done. If he could, he would have vigorously shaken his head to rid the thought, but he couldn't. Instead, it remained lodged in his memory.

More so, his mother's voice remained lodged in his head. " _Why would you do this to us? Why would you disgrace our family like this? You are no longer a part of our family, Arthur. You already proved that through your words and actions. Just stay in America."_

"Wow!" Alfred enthused. "You're a long way from home, Arthur!" He grinned widely. "London! That's so cool! Dude, what's it like?"

Arthur just wanted Alfred to leave him alone. "I don't really wish to speak of London right now, Alfred. Could we please talk of other things?"

"Sure thing, Arthur," Alfred said, smiling. "My brother is coming today! Would you like to meet him?"

"Perhaps," Arthur sighed. Maybe after meeting Alfred's brother, who would probably act just like him, he can just go off himself in a bathroom or something. Arthur groaned but lightly touched his jaw so he could pretend it was from pain so as not to seem rude. "If I could just get my jaw to stop hurting…"

"Yeah, that just looks painful as hell," Alfred commented. "How did it break anyway?"

Arthur's heart skipped a beat. He had been anticipating that damned question, just not so soon. "Well, er…" How was he supposed to answer that? "I would rather not talk about that right at this moment. How about we discuss that tonight when it's just the two of us? I don't wish to discuss it in front of a large group of people, Alfred."

"Is it the reason why you're here?" Alfred asked, eyes widening in understanding. He then frowned and looked down when Arthur nodded slightly, trying not to move his jaw at all. "I'm sorry to hear about that, Arthur. Yeah, we can talk about it tonight when we go to bed."

"Very well," Arthur softly said, turning his gaze to the television. It was an episode of Forensic Files, which made him uncomfortable, considering the woman was shot in the head. "Now who the bloody fuck chose this program?" he muttered.

"Oh, I think it was Jan," Alfred said. "She's an EDO like us, and she rules the roost. If anyone changes the channel without her permission, there will be hell to pay. I'd suggest not complaining. This is her favorite show."

Arthur honestly did not care if it was her favorite show or not. If he had to sit out there and endure being around people, he sure as hell was not going to endure that show as well. He grabbed the remote from her chair before she knew what was going on and changed the channel to something else.

The very pale, extremely thin woman rose to her feet, glaring daggers at Arthur. "Excuse you," she snarled at him. "Just what the hell do you think you're doing? I was watching that!" Her mousy brown hair was in a messy bun held in place by a crochet hook with bright pink reading glasses perched on the end of her nose.

"I have a problem with it," Arthur simply stated, scanning the screen for a different show to watch.

"You can't do this!" she raged. "I always watch that show! You can't mess up my routine!"

"Looks like I just did, love," Arthur carelessly told her, a hint of boredom in his voice.

Amber came running out of the office. "What's going on here?!" she demanded. She saw the remote in Arthur's hand and the angry look on Jan's face, immediately understanding. "Jan, come with me," she softly said. "We need to talk about something really quick."

"He turned off my show!" Jan raved as the nurse guided her away. "He can't do that! I didn't find out who shot that woman!"

Amber sighed. "Please calm down, Jan. I understand you're upset, but you'll understand what's going on after group today. I'll talk to him when I'm done with you, okay? He's an EDO like you."

Arthur could still hear Jan ranting and raving as he sat back with the remote. He ignored everyone else staring at him in awe. It was ridiculous to him that no one else had ever seemed to stand up to that woman before. She was a patient in a mental ward, not the Queen of England. And it was a remote, for crying out loud. He tossed the remote to Alfred. "Find something everyone can agree on," he said, not wanting the pressure on him.

Alfred looked at Arthur, still stunned from what he had just witnessed between him and Jan. "I have never seen someone deal with Jan like that, Arthur," he said. "She's been here longer than I have, and twice as many times as me. She practically runs this place. And yet you just completely gave her a what for…"

"She's a person," Arthur scoffed. "Just the same as we are. I don't see any reason to think that she's any better than I am." He folded his arms over his chest and watched the television to see what kind of show Alfred would choose. He was pleasantly surprised to find that Alfred chose to watch Oprah, which was something the other EDO patients wanted to watch.

Jan came back a few minutes later, a sniffling wreck. She walked over to Arthur and slowly leaned in on him, hugging him. "I'm so sorry," she softly whispered through her tears. "I had no idea…"

"I didn't expect you to," Arthur simply stated, catching on. He awkwardly patted her back, not used to having his personal space invaded like this. He had grown up in a family that was very big on not touching other people, so he had never had much human contact. The hug he had suddenly been brought into made him feel extremely awkward and it was an unpleasant experience for him.

Amber walked over to them. "Jan, I think he gets the hint. You're sorry." She smiled apologetically at Arthur when Jan pulled away. "Can we go talk in your room for a sec, Arthur?"

"I don't see why not," Arthur sighed as he reluctantly stood. He walked with her to the room he shared with Alfred. "Are you going to tell me that my behavior was out of line? Because I don't care."

"No, that's not what I brought you here to tell you at all, Arthur," Amber stated. "I brought you here to tell you that what happened with you is going to have to be shared in EDO group this afternoon."

"What?" Arthur asked, almost panicking. "No, I won't allow that. I'm not ready for it."

"Arthur, if you weren't ready for it, you wouldn't have been allowed down on this unit," she told him. "So you're obviously ready. If you would like, the nurse leading the group can explain it for you."

He thought about it for a moment. Which would be worse for him, having to relive it as he told them himself, or having to relive it as someone else told them? "I don't know which is the lesser of the evils," he softly said with a shrug. "Both of them sound equally as horrible and just as triggering as the other." Arthur squeezed his eyes shut. "Do I have to be in the room when you tell them? Could I come in after?"

Amber looked torn. "I don't know about that…"

"I don't want to talk about it," Arthur said. "I don't want to hear about it. I don't want to answer questions about it. I don't even want to think about it. If you're going to make my story known, at least give me the relief of not being there for it and not letting them ask me any questions until I'm ready."

"That's completely understandable," she said with a nod. "I'll see what I can do. Every patient is different, and your case is definitely one of the more unique ones we've had here. Perhaps they could let it slide this once. Go back out to the day room, and I'll go talk to the nurse running your group. I'll let you know as soon as I know."

Arthur nodded and headed back out to his recliner. He let out a groan as he sat down and shut his eyes once more. His head was spinning as he thought about what he was going to have to do. There was no way that he wanted to tell them what he had done to himself. There was no way he could tell them why his mouth was wired shut.

"Hey, are you okay?" Alfred asked him. He peered at him through his glasses, blinking in concern. "You look so pained and hurt. Do you want me to get a nurse?"

"No," Arthur stated through clenched teeth. He stopped clenching his teeth quickly, though, due to his jaw aching from it. "I don't need a nurse, Alfred. I'm fine."

There was a loud bang as Alfred's recliner footrest went down and Alfred exclaimed, "Mattie!"

Arthur's eyes flew open as he looked up and saw Alfred hugging a man who looked just like him. The only difference was that this man's hair curled and was a bit longer, and that the man was a bit thicker than Alfred, but a healthy thick. Were they twins?

"Mattie, this is my roommate, Arthur!" Alfred excitedly said, gesturing to Arthur. "Arthur, this is my little brother, Matthew!" He was so excited that he was nearly bouncing up and down. "I'm so glad that you two finally get to meet!"

Matthew smiled at Arthur. "Hello, Arthur," he softly said. "I'm pleased to meet you. I hope my brother hasn't been too much to handle." He seemed completely different from his brother. "Al can be a real handful."

"Oh, shut up," Alfred grumbled, crossing his arms in a sulk.

Arthur smiled a little. He liked Matthew. "It's nothing. And I'm pleased to meet you as well, Matthew."

"Mattie here's from Canada!" Alfred said. "He lived up there with his dad up until he was seventeen! Now he's here with his fiance!"

Matthew's eyes were wild as he stared over at Alfred. "Al!" he hissed. "Don't!"

"You're engaged?" Arthur asked. "I'm glad to hear that. Congratulations."

"Thank you," Matthew mumbled, turning a light shade of pink. He rubbed his arm and looked down. "He's actually parking the car right now. He'll be in here in a few."

"Wait, Gil came to see me?!" Alfred excitedly asked.

"Yeah," Matthew softly said, looking up at his brother. "He was so excited to have the day off and wanted to come with me to see you."

"Yes!" Alfred said, shadowboxing the air.

"Alfred, stop that!" Amber said, running out of the nurse's station. "There is no exercising! You know the rules!"

Alfred frowned. "Whatever, Amber," he sighed. He sulked slightly and turned back to Matthew, anger quickly forgotten. "So what are we going to play today, Mattie? I bet I'll be able to kick your ass in it anyway."

"Oh, and you're so certain?" Matthew asked, narrowing his eyes at his brother. "We'll see about that one, Al." He smirked as an announcement rang in over the speakers.

"Would all psych ed patients report to psych ed group in the dining room?" the voice asked.

"That's us," Alfred said, looking at Arthur. "I don't have to go, but you do."

"Actually, Alfred, we want you to go for the first five minutes," Amber said. She looked to Arthur. "And I was able to talk to the nurse running it, Arthur. You don't have to be there."

Arthur gulped. This was the group where they would find out what he did to himself….

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Arthur licked his lips as he walked into the group a few minutes later than the rest of them. He closed his eyes as he heard some of the girls sniffling like Jan had done that afternoon. He didn't want to hear them, and he didn't want to see them. It wasn't fair that they had done this to him. It wasn't fair that everyone was crying because of him. He didn't want their pity or sympathy. He didn't want any of this.

When he finally opened his eyes, they locked with Alfred's, and his heart shattered in his chest. Alfred's eyes were bloodshot and watery. His nose was cherry red. His face looked betrayed. Arthur sat down next to him and forced himself to close his eyes once more. He couldn't bear looking at any of the people around him anymore. It was too much.

All that was left was enduring things like that for a couple more months...


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Wow! So many reviews already! Please keep them coming! If you like this story, please let me know!_

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A young-looking Chinese man approached Arthur sometime after dinner. His hair was long and dark, pulled back into a ponytail. He looked tired yet alert at the same time. As he approached Arthur with a few other doctors at his side, he looked slightly worried, but his expression changed once he reached his patient.

"Pleased to meet you, Arthur. My name is Dr. Wang," he greeted, sticking out his hand for Arthur to shake. "I am one of the mood patient doctors on this floor. I understand that you are under EDO regimen, but that does not mean that you have an eating disorder. That is why you were assigned to me. Shall we go and talk in your room?"

"That sounds lovely," Arthur replied, kicking down his footrest. He glanced over at Alfred, who was giving Dr. Wang a funny look, and then looked back to Dr. Wang, who seemed to be ignoring Alfred. "Let's go," he said, leading the way.

The doctor posse followed him to his hospital bedroom and gathered around his bed as he sat on it. There was a brief, uncomfortable silence as they all stood there and stared at Arthur for a few moments before Dr. Wang spoke up.

"So, Arthur, would you like to tell us what brought you here?" he asked.

"Couldn't you just read your notes and find out from that?" Arthur asked him. "I'm tired of talking about it." He shuddered quickly as he remembered the sharp, stabbing feeling of the cold bullet lodged in his sinuses when he came to. "I shot myself," he finally said after about a minute of silence. "Happy now?"

Dr. Wang was silent for a moment before speaking up. "What caused you to want to kill yourself, Arthur? Surely something must have triggered the urge to pick up that gun and shoot yourself in the head with it."

And then _he_ popped into Arthur's mind; the man with the wavy, flowing, blond hair and those dazzling blue eyes. The way he had always said Arthur's name with his heavily accented voice, and the way he would hold him so intimately. Though it was all just a thing of the past now, Arthur couldn't help but feel tears forming in his eyes at just the thought of that wonderful man.

"He left me…" Arthur whispered.

"Who left you?" Dr. Wang asked, writing on his papers in front of him. His eyes widened as he looked to his patient with concern.

"Francis," the Englishman softly said. "He was so perfect in every possible way."

"Are you referring to Dr. Bonnefoy?" the doctor asked. "I had heard rumors of an affair between the two of you. Is that true?"

Arthur put a hand over his eyes to try to stop the tears. "Yes," he choked out. "It's all true. We were in love, or at least I thought we were." He coughed for a moment, choking on his tears. "And then his wife, whom he was separated from, showed back up into the picture and ruined everything between us."

"Is that when you decided to kill yourself?" Dr. Wang asked, writing on his papers.

The patient shook his head. "Francis still agreed to see me on the weekends and after classes," he continued. "But then one night, we got into an argument that I don't even remember the cause of. He then told me that he never loved me and only wanted me for sex. _That_ was when I went home and shot myself. No one ever wants anything else from me."

Dr. Wang sighed. "Arthur, I'm sure there's something out there for you," he said. He frowned as he watched his patient shake his head. "Killing yourself is never an easy thing for anyone left behind."

"My mum had no problem with cutting me from the family after hearing what I did," Arthur bitterly muttered. "She doesn't care about me anymore and told me to stay here in America. What am I supposed to do here? I have nothing! No one!"

"Arthur, please calm down," the doctor replied. "We will help you with everything that we can. But for now, we have to get you into a proper state of mind and back to good health."

"You don't actually care about me," Arthur snapped at him, glaring daggers at the doctor posse. "All you care about is the paycheck. Doctors are all the same here, heartless beings who don't give a shit about anyone but themselves."

"If that is what you believe, I will not argue with you," Dr. Wang simply stated. "There is no point in arguing with someone who won't listen." He then decided to change the subject. "Are you currently on any medications?"

"No," his patient sighed. "Do I have to be?"

"Arthur, you're obviously severely depressed," the doctor stated. "Perhaps an anti-depressant could help you out some. We can start you off on a very low dose and then go from there. What do you say?"

The Englishman thought for a moment. Could medication really help him feel better? "I'll try it," he decided after a few moments. "But if I feel as if it's not working, please take me off of it."

"We can do that," Dr. Wang replied with a nod. "You're the boss, after all. Is there anything else you would like to discuss tonight, or shall we talk more in the morning?"

"Let's talk more in the morning," Arthur decided, too exhausted to even think about talking anymore about why he was there. He didn't even want to remember that he was even there in the first place. "I'm too exhausted from my first day here to even think straight."

"That's understandable," the doctor answered with a nod. "We will talk to you tomorrow then. Try to get some good sleep tonight, okay?" And with that, the doctor and his posse left the room.

Arthur sat there for a moment, taking it all in. Was the affair between him and Dr. Bonnefoy really that infamous? Did everyone really know about it? That wasn't good. He bit his lip. How had psychiatry heard about it when they weren't anywhere near related to that department? He sat and held his head in his hands as he thought more and more, wishing that the gunshot would have killed him.

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Alfred rubbed at his head with a towel as he came out of his and Arthur's bathroom after his shower. He looked at Arthur and smiled. "Some day, huh?" he asked. "Hopefully tomorrow will be better, right?"

Arthur responded with a noncommittal hum. He didn't really feel like talking, especially to Alfred. "I suppose," he finally said after a few moments of silence. "So now that you know what I'm in here for, what's your deal?"

The other male sighed. "I have an eating disorder," he said.

"Well no shit," Arthur replied. "What does yours do? There are many different types of eating disorders, you know." He didn't care about sounding insensitive at the moment. Maybe if he could get Alfred to hate him, they wouldn't have to become friends. Besides, people who became friends in the hospital never stayed friends anyway.

Alfred chuckled to himself. "You're pretty blunt, aren't you?" he asked. "Well I don't eat, yet I'm constantly working out when I'm at home. It's like I'm punishing myself for being fat as a child. You see, as a kid, I always struggled with my weight. My mom thought me being pudgy was cute, but the kids in my class didn't. I got bullied a lot, and then I turned into this." He gestured down to his thin, yet muscular body. "I weigh about 130 pounds at the moment. But I'm really strong."

"Don't you know you could kill yourself by doing that?" Arthur asked him.

"Anything could kill anyone," Alfred simply responded, sitting on his bed and setting the towel next to him. "That's what makes life an adventure."

"Don't you have goals or aspirations?" his roommate asked him. "Don't you want to be something?"

The blue-eyed blond thought for a moment. "I've always liked the idea of being a children's counselor," he said. "That way I could help kids before they turn into me."

"Then get better so you can become one," Arthur told him.

After a few moments of silence, Alfred opened his mouth to speak. "What did you want to be, Arthur? You know, before you did what you did."

"I wanted to be a surgeon," Arthur softly answered. "I was attending school here, actually. When I did what I did, my classmates were the ones who operated on me. I'm never going back."

"How close were you to graduating?" the American asked.

Arthur swallowed the growing lump in his throat. "I was halfway done," he answered. "And I was the top of my class. I threw it all away because of our professor."

"Your professor?" Alfred asked him, cocking his head to the side. "I don't understand."

"I was having an affair with my married professor," the Englishman responded, blinking back tears. After recomposing himself, he asked, "Can we please talk about something else, Alfred?"

"Sure thing!" Alfred answered. "Do you have any siblings?"

"I have four brothers," Arthur answered. "They all live back in the UK with the rest of my family." Thinking he should be polite, he asked, "What about you?"

"I have Matthew, who you met today," Alfred answered, "but I also have a twin sister named Amelia. She's actually here but on a different psych unit from us. She's upstairs on 2 JP West."

Arthur absently nodded, not really taking in much of the conversation. "I am a twin as well, to my brother Dylan. He lives in Wales with our father." He sighed and laid back in bed. "Then I have two older brothers, Allistor and Seamus. There's also Peter, who is only twelve, but he's rather smart."

Alfred smiled and laid back on his bed as well. "You'll meet Amelia on Sunday," he told him. "She'll be down on our unit for church if you go."

"I'm not that religious of a person," Arthur answered, glancing over at Alfred.

"It gives me something to do on a Sunday morning," Alfred answered. "And I'm pretty sure it's required for EDO's."

The Englishman groaned. "That sounds dreadful." He put his arm over his eyes and groaned louder. "Do we really have to go to it?"

"It's not like it lasts that long," Alfred assured. "All we do is sing a little and listen to a short message. I mostly just text back and forth with Amelia during church."

"Right," Arthur sighed. "We can have our phones here." His phone had died before dinner, so he had put it in the nurse's station to charge. He removed his arm. "I guess it doesn't sound so bad when you put it that way, but I had better be allowed in that conversation as well."

Alfred grinned from ear to ear. "Well of course. I'll give you my number tomorrow, Arthur!" He got out his phone and began tapping quickly on the screen of it, probably sending a text to his sister or something. Moments later, he said, "Amelia is cool with it too."

Once more, Arthur sighed. "Good to know. Now, I'd like to get some sleep for the night. It's been a long, exhausting day."

"Gotcha," his roommate replied and rushed over to turn out the lights. "Goodnight, Arthur."

"Goodnight, Alfred." And within moments, Arthur was asleep.

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Arthur frowned when a nurse came in at six-thirty in the morning to wake them up the next morning. He was on the verge of cussing her out when she explained that she was just weighing them and then they could have time to get ready as needed.

He dutifully complied and went back to lie down. It wasn't like it took him long to get ready anyway. His eyes drifted shut to the sound of Alfred humming to himself in the shower of the bathroom that was connected to their room.

Arthur opened his eyes when the water stopped and began to wake up a little more. He blinked his eyes open a little and yawned, mouth barely opening, stretching. His eyes closed once more before he re-opened them, just to find Alfred standing naked on his side of the room.

The Englishman's eyes wandered down Alfred's toned and chiseled torso as he inspected his roommate. For someone with anorexia nervosa, Alfred sure looked good. He was muscular and rather attractive, from what Arthur could tell. The only thing Arthur wouldn't do was look down. He just couldn't bring himself to, no matter how curious he was.

Alfred slipped a pair of boxers and some basketball shorts on before walking over to Arthur's bed, the Englishman quickly snapping his eyes shut before he noticed. "Hey, Arthur, it's time to wake up," he said. "They'll get all pissy if you're still asleep when they come back in." He sighed and walked back over to his side of the room to find a shirt and hoodie to put on.

Arthur stretched and opened his eyes. "Good morning," he involuntarily said. Quickly closing his mouth, his eyes widened. He couldn't believe he had actually greeted him. In all fairness, he never even greeted Francis the mornings after their "sleepovers". What made Alfred so important?

His roommate smiled over at him. "You must be really tired, huh?" he asked. He tugged his hoodie over his head and perched himself at the end of Arthur's bed. "I remember my first week here was so difficult and exhausting. I'm sure you'll get the hang of it, though."

The emerald-eyed man held his head in his hands as he sat up. "Thank you," he murmured. Though Alfred was trying to be comforting, it just wasn't working. "I just…." Arthur's voice trailed off as he lost his train of thought. "Never mind it, love," he said, automatically using a term of endearment, which caused his cheeks to blush a deep scarlet.

Alfred didn't seem to notice. "Well I'm going to go and work on my hair," he said, slapping his hand down on Arthur's bed. "I'll chat with you in a bit." He then got up and hurried off toward the bathroom with some hair gel.

Arthur wondered what Alfred was going to do to his hair for a split second before sighing and getting out of bed. The moment he was on his feet, he felt a dull ache in his jaw. His hand instinctively went up to his jaw, gently resting against it. He immediately removed his hand as he felt pain flare up in his jaw. Tears pricked at his eyes as he looked down at the floor.

 _Why am I so stupid?_ he thought to himself. _Why did I shoot myself? I could have killed myself in another way. Why did it have to be a gun? Now my jaw aches and there's nothing I can do about it!_

Arthur tugged the hospital gown he had gone to bed in off of his body and tugged a t-shirt over his head, internally cursing himself for using a gun of all things to attempt suicide with. He should have known that he wasn't going to die, even if guns were usually the most lethal way to end it all.

Just as Arthur finished buttoning and zipping his pants, Alfred came out of the bathroom, hair looking a lot tamer than before, except for one cowlick that he seemed to have missed. It stuck up in his bangs, almost like an antenna, but in a way, it suited him, so Arthur decided not to mention that he missed a spot. Besides, Alfred was a curious person. Maybe he styled his hair like that on purpose.

"What time is it?" Arthur grumbled, frowning. He hated getting up early, though he didn't mind being up early. It was a complicated feeling for him. "It's too early to be up and functioning, don't you think, Alfred?" He looked over at his roommate to see him doing push-ups. "Alfred?"

His roommate immediately jumped up. "You can't tell anyone I was doing that!" he quickly said. "They'll kill me here and restart my program! I'm so close to being discharged!"

"Too late," a male nurse commented from the doorway.

Both men turned to see the nurse and Dr. Wang standing in the doorway. Alfred's face went pale as Arthur just looked confused. The Englishman didn't understand why Alfred wasn't allowed to do push-ups and things of the sort. It confused the hell out of him as the male nurse began to scold his roommate.

"And you were doing so well, too," Dr. Wang sighed to Alfred. "I don't know how your doctor is going to take this information. How long have you been adding push-ups to your morning routine after we explicitly told you not to?"

Alfred gave Dr. Wang a smirk of defiance. "You're not even my doctor, Yao. I don't have to listen to any of the shit you say."

Dr. Wang's face turned red. "I just want to see you get better, but that will never happen at the rate you are going."

Struck by Dr. Wang's words, Alfred looked down at his feet, unsure of what to say next. He looked extremely upset. It made Arthur wonder if he had previously known Dr. Wang before coming to the hospital. Then again, there was no way that Arthur could pry into that without getting to know Alfred first.

Dr. Wang turned to Arthur. "May I speak with you, Arthur? It won't take too long. We just need to check in with you every morning."

Arthur gave him a curt nod, which really made his jaw ache, and followed him down the hallway almost to the end. There was a small TV room with a piano and a bunch of comfy armchairs. He sat on the piano bench, feeling more comfortable there than anywhere else in the room.

The doctor and his posse followed Arthur in and made themselves comfortable before Dr. Wang said, "So, Arthur, are you adjusting to being here?"

"I guess," Arthur answered. "But what was that rubbish that just occurred in my bedroom moments before. I think that's total bollocks that he's not allowed to have a morning routine."

"That's not the case," Dr. Wang said with a shake of his head. "I am not allowed to discuss other patients with you, for that breaks confidentiality. The only thing I can say is that if you see him exercising to that degree, ever, you need to report it to nursing straight away. It could end badly for him if he keeps doing that."

Arthur nodded, still confused on what could be so bad about a few push-ups in the morning, but decided not to argue it. Besides, he didn't need to stick his neck out for Alfred when he barely knew him anyway. "I will," was all he said before looking up at Dr. Wang. "What did he call you in there?"

"Oh, he called me by my first name is all," Dr. Wang told Arthur. "We used to know each other outside of here. He's not supposed to address me as such, but he does it just to spite me, especially when he's in trouble, like this morning."

"He seems spiteful," the patient commented, folding his arms over his chest.

Dr. Wang chuckled to himself. "More than you know. But enough about Alfred. Let's talk about you. How are you feeling today?"

"Well I'm in a lot of pain," Arthur began. "Isn't there something you could give me that could relieve that, even if it's only for a little bit? Whatever you're giving me now isn't doing shit."

"I'll see what I can do," Dr. Wang said, scribbling down some notes once more. He flicked his ponytail back behind his shoulder as he wrote, his brow furrowed. "Is there anything else."

"Are you sure you wish to ask that question?" Arthur asked. "Because there are plenty of things that I could ask for."

"Lay it on me," the doctor told him. "I'm a doctor. If I can't meet your needs here, no one can. Just tell me what you want done, and I'll see what I can do."

And just like that, Arthur spoke with him almost halfway through breakfast.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: I'm sorry that I haven't updated anything in forever. I just recently moved and I don't have internet. I'm trying to update as soon as possible on everything, but it will just take some time. Sorry for the inconvenience._

.

Alfred approached Arthur after lunch that day. "What did you spend all morning talking to Yao about?" he asked, sitting in the recliner next to his. He pensively stirred at his decaffeinated coffee before peering up at his companion with curious blue eyes. "I mean, you two were talking for a long time…" He took a sip of the coffee, burning his taste buds on it and making a sour face.

Arthur sighed and stirred his tea with his straw. "Nothing really. _Dr. Wang_ and I talked about a lot of my favorite things and how to incorporate them into my life." He took a sip and smiled in satisfaction. "He's allowing me to drink tea whenever I wish, and not just at snack times." The Englishman slurped the tea extra loud while sticking his middle finger up at his companion, who grinned.

"Well aren't you just something special, Arthur?" he laughed. "What kind of tea is that anyway?"

"Never you mind," Arthur stated, cradling it to his chest as if it were a small child in need of comforting. "So why do you call Dr. Wang by his first name anyway? It's quite odd really." He cocked his head to the side. "I assume you were familiar with him at one point. Perhaps childhood friends? Roommates? Rivals?"

"Lovers," Alfred corrected with a wink. He laughed at Arthur's shocked expression. "Why do you look so surprised? Are you shocked that I could score a guy like Yao or something?" His grin widened. "Wait, I know what it is. You didn't know I'm gay, did you?" Alfred cackled with laughter at Arthur's expression. "That's totally it! You just weren't expecting me to be gay!"

"Well it is rather shocking," Arthur quietly admitted. "How can you be so loud about it?" He was quite horrified at the fact that Alfred was boasting about his sexual orientation and past lovers so openly. What ever happened to humility or "keeping things on the down low"? "I mean, aren't you at least a little, I don't know, shy about it?"

"Why would I need to be shy about who I am?" Alfred asked, smiling brightly at his roommate. "I'm quite proud of the way I am, actually. I go to the Pride parade in Des Moines every year."

"Pride parade?" Arthur asked. He bit his lip as he imagined Alfred walking around in rainbow attire, waving an LGBT flag around. Something about it seemed inspiring, almost making him want to write about it. "That sounds incredible! What sort of things do you wear there?"

The American winked at him. "One year, I went in leather pants and combat boots. That was a particularly hot year."

Arthur felt his cheeks heating up as he imagined Alfred in tight, leather pants; pants that hugged his every possible curve back when he was healthy like his brother. His mind began to wander further as he imagined a sweaty Alfred in leather pants on a hot day. Before it could wander too far, Alfred brought his attention back.

"Me being gay doesn't bother you, does it?" Alfred asked him, blinking his eyes in confusion. He was watching Arthur and couldn't tell if his horrified look was out of amusement or disgust. Having not known Arthur for very long, he couldn't properly gauge the reaction.

The Englishman was silent for a few moments. "It doesn't bother me in the least," he finally said. "I just never thought I would come across a kindred spirit in a place like this."

"Kindred spirit?" The blond squinted his blue eyes as he processed what the other was saying. "Wait, you're gay, too?"

Arthur shushed Alfred, putting his hands over the American's loud mouth. "Not so loud!" he hissed. "Do you think I want anyone to know?"

"Why wouldn't you? It's who you are," Alfred answered, confused. "You should never be ashamed of who you are, Arthur. Trust me, it doesn't work well for you." He looked down at his body and sighed. "It does things to you that you never thought would ever happen."

"Tell me something, Alfred," Arthur stated. "You weren't bullied as a child, were you? You do this to yourself because you don't like who you are."

"Shut up!" Alfred suddenly snapped. "You don't know anything, Arthur!" He jumped up from his chair, even though he knew they were supposed to be sitting down. Though he knew his roommate was right, he would never admit something like that so easily. "You think you know everything, but you don't! You think you're some big shot here, but you're not! You're just another person who couldn't do the final thing they were supposed to do! I mean, seriously, how do you fuck up shooting yourself?!"

The look of devastation on Arthur's face was one that Alfred would never forget. Arthur's emerald green eyes held pure betrayal and despair. He made a mental note of it to think about later as he bolted toward their room.

If there was one thing Alfred hated about himself more than anything, it was how hateful he was toward the people who only wanted to help him. He hated that he was mean to Arthur when his roommate did nothing wrong. Why did he impulsively say such hateful things to anyone who ever tried to get close to him? He knew why, but he didn't want to accept it yet. It was too soon, and "bipolar" was such a scary word.

Alfred ran into the bathroom of their shared room and tucked himself into the corner with the toilet in fetal position. All that he had struggled with and worked for these past few months was about to be thrown away and flushed down the tubes, literally. He could feel his lunch coming up his throat as he sat there, sobbing. Why did he always screw things up like that? Why did he always relapse when someone knew came along?

He heard the nurses come into his room just as he finished vomiting. Alfred knew that he was done for in their eyes. He was going to get it, and he was going to get it hard. It wasn't fair. All he wanted was a hug and to be told that everything would be okay, but he knew that he would never get that, especially after most likely triggering Arthur as well.

"Alfred, come out of there," Amber said through the door, knocking on it. "We know what you did. It's just me in here. I think we need to talk."

The boy slowly opened the door and looked up at his nurse, reminding her of a puppy who knew it was in trouble for tearing up the house while the owner was gone. "I don't want to talk, Amber," he choked out. "I just ruined everything out of impulse once again. We don't need to talk." He held his head in his hands. "I'm never going to get better. Why can't you all just _give up on me_?! I'm a fucking lost cause anyway!"

"Alfred, look at me," Amber said. She refused to speak until the teenager raised his eyes to meet hers. "I will _never_ give up on you. You want to know why? It's because I have been working with you, off and on, for almost two years now. You _can_ beat this if you just try."

"I'm tired of trying!" Alfred yelled at her. "I'm tired of it! I just fucking triggered a suicidal patient because they overstepped their boundaries! I did it before I could stop myself! It's because of me that Arthur probably wants to die right now!" He ripped off his glasses and threw them on his bed before pressing his fists to his eyes. "I can't do anything right!"

"Is that what this is really about?" she softly asked. "It's about Arthur, isn't it? A new patient comes along, suddenly he gets too close. You get scared and think, 'I need to hurt him before he hurts me,' and here we are. This happens every time we get a new EDO, Alfred. You need to stop doing this."

"But how?!" he demanded. "How am I supposed to stop when I don't even know how I start in the first place?!"

"Please stop yelling, Alfred," Amber warned. "If you don't stop, you'll have to go to the Quiet Room in the back, and I know you don't want that."

Alfred fell to his knees, sobbing once more. "Arthur's going to hurt himself, and it's all my fault!" he wailed into his hands as he covered his face.

"We're not going to let him hurt himself," she quietly assured, struggling to bring Alfred's anxiety down. "Please take some deeps breaths." She didn't care how long she had to wait, she wasn't going to leave her patient alone when he was like this.

Once Alfred was calm, Amber looked him directly in the eye and said, "Your time here restarts now."

.

Arthur, on the other hand, was quiet, having soaked in every word Alfred had said to him, like an anxiety sponge or something. Alfred's voice rang in his head, over and over. _I mean, seriously, how do you fuck up shooting yourself?!_ It taunted and teased at his mind over and over. How did he fuck it up anyway? What was so hard about shooting yourself in the head?

"No," he softly said to himself. "Don't think that way." His eyes stung with tears. He thought he was getting along with Alfred, but then this happened. What had he done wrong? Did Alfred want him to kill himself?

"Arthur?" Jan asked, placing a hand on his arm. "Are you okay? Alfred was pretty harsh back there."

He blinked back the tears that stung at his eyes. "I'm fine," he managed to say. It was obvious that he wasn't, though. Anyone with more than two brain cells could tell that Alfred's words had really fucked him up. "Don't worry about me."

"I _will_ worry about you," Jan stated. "You didn't deserve Alfred's wrath. Usually only doctors get it." She frowned. "Alfred can be a bit testy at times, but I hear he's bipolar, so it's only natural for him."

"Bipolar?!" Arthur incredulously asked. "That's no excuse for him telling me to basically kill myself!" He was fuming. "I want out of this bloody place _now_!"

A nurse came running over. "Arthur, we need you to calm down."

"I will not be calmed!" he nearly shouted. "You're going to let him get away with saying those things to me?! I should go kick his bloody arse!" He didn't care that his English side was showing at this moment. He was too pissed off to care. He didn't even notice the aching in his jaw anymore. "I'll kill him!"

"You can't be threatening other patients like that," the nurse stated in a calm voice. "Arthur, you need to go to the back."

" _I_ need to go to the back?!" he demanded. "How about you bloody make me! I'll fight all of you!"

"Please don't make this difficult and just go to the back," she softly said. "We don't want to have to call in other people to help us."

"Bring them on!" Arthur shouted. "I can handle them! I didn't grow up with older brothers for nothing!" He could nearly feel his blood boiling inside of him. All he wanted was to tear Alfred to shreds for saying something so horrible to him!

The entire dayroom was suddenly empty, except for Arthur and five big nurses. He fought as much as he could, but they dragged him to a small room in the back with nothing in it. The last thing he remembered was being changed into a hospital gown and getting a shot in the rear end. After that, things just got sort of fuzzy for while.

.

Arthur was finally thinking more clearly by dinnertime, having taken a nap in the QR. There was only one thing he didn't appreciate about dinner. Alfred was seated across the table from him at a table for two. He was still internally fuming at the teenager, who looked as if he had had the worst day of his life. What did Alfred have to be upset about? He was the one who started it all when Arthur was the one just trying to help!

Alfred looked up at Arthur for a moment before averting his eyes. He knew that the Englishman's trip to the QR had been his fault. All he could do now was hope for a chance to apologize as soon as possible. If he didn't, then Arthur might switch rooms the next time they got a new male patient. He didn't want that.

He tapped his foot against Arthur's under the table, the Englishman giving him an irritable look. Alfred offered him an apologetic smile, but Arthur was having none of it. "Come on," Alfred tried to encourage.

That just got Arthur fired up again. "Come on?" he asked through gritted teeth. "You expect everything to be fine and dandy after what you said to me earlier? I've got news for you. That's not how things work with me! You can't say horrid things like that and expect to get away with them because you have a charming smile."

"Look, I'm sorry, Arthur," Alfred began. "I didn't mean what I said to you earlier."

"If you didn't mean it, then why say it?"

"You don't understand-"

"You're absolutely right, Alfred. I don't understand." Arthur threw his hands in the air, exasperated. "I don't understand what made you say something like that to me when I was only trying to understand you better."

Alfred was silent for a moment. "I'm scared of getting close to people, okay?" he finally muttered. "I can't let people in." He looked away from Arthur and kept his eyes down. "I should have warned you of that ahead of time."

"Yeah, then I could've just never talked to you and not have gotten a shot in my arse," Arthur grumbled at him. "But if you insist that you're sorry, I guess I can accept your apology." He offered Alfred a half-smile as he took a sip of his pureed carrots. The taste was atrocious, but he knew he had to drink it if he wanted to get up from the table.

"That face you made right there," Alfred said with a grin, "is why carrots are on my Hate Food list." He smirked at Arthur. "Carrots, peas, and corn."

"Corn?" Arthur asked, smiling a little wider. "But you're from Iowa. How can you not like corn? Isn't that a staple food of this state right there? I mean, there's even a Sweet Corn Festival somewhere in the state every summer."

Alfred snickered. "Doesn't mean I have to like corn. Besides, the corn here tastes like plastic."

"Agreed," Arthur sighed with a nod, having eaten the corn for lunch. "They wouldn't even let me put butter on it."

"'Because it's not a condiment,'" Alfred mocked, raising his voice to sound like Amber. "God, I hate hearing them say things like that. Why can't we just have our food the way we like it? What is so wrong? At least we'd want to eat it then!"

"Alfred, lower your voice," Amber said from the food cart next to him.

The blond rolled his eyes. "I know, I know," he groaned. "We're eating." He shook his head. "Doesn't mean I can't get excited about things."

"But the things you're getting excited about are things that will never happen, so it's not even worth wasting your breath, Alfie," she answered with a smile. Oh, that smile. Arthur was beginning to hate it. It was too plastic-y for him.

"I hate it when you call me that," Alfred groaned.

Amber laughed. "Good. It's my own form of torture for you."

"You're a pain." Alfred took a bite of green beans and sighed. "Can I get some salt?"

"Your diet is low sodium," Amber reminded. "You can't have that, and you know it."

"Why did you have to restart my diet too?" Alfred asked her. "I can't live on such small portions. My mom said I'm a growing boy. I need my food."

Arthur flicked his pureed smoothie, smiling to himself at the exchange. "I'm a growing boy, too. I need actual food."

"Arthur, your jaw is broken," she reminded. "You can't have actual food."

The Englishman muttered to himself about the hospital staff being ninnies and the like as Alfred snickered to himself. This was going to be an interesting mealtime.

.

After dinner, Alfred sat next to Arthur in a recliner. He groaned as he popped the footrest up and got his phone out of his pocket. "Amelia is so pissed at me," he said.

"Oh really?" Arthur asked, raising his eyebrows. "And why is that? She found out you got your entire program restarted?"

"Exactly," Alfred answered. "I'll never hear the end of it." He placed a hand to his cheek as he sighed out, reading over the messages on his phone. "She's really pissed. Amelia is going to lecture me good when she sees me tomorrow for church."

"I forgot that tomorrow is Sunday," Arthur groaned. "We're going to church, aren't we?"

"Bright and early," Alfred assured with a smile.

"I really don't want to go."

"I really don't care. You're going." He smirked at his English companion. "Amelia is excited to meet you, and I know you're just going to love her. But you won't be _in love_ with her because of our kindred spiritness or whatever."

Arthur rolled his eyes, wishing he had never said a thing to Alfred about being gay. He knew it was only going to cause trouble like this. Alfred was just going to offhandedly mention it constantly and it'll get old very fast. That was just the way things seemed to go from what he could tell about his roommate. Not that he could really fight it. He had done enough fighting for that day.

"You look so tired," Alfred commented.

"You would be as well, if you got a shot in the arse with tranquilizers," Arthur bitterly commented. "My head has been entirely foggy all day because of it." He shook his head gently, so as not to hurt his jaw. "I can't do this every day, that's for sure."

"I noticed you talking to thin air earlier while we were on 'No Contact'," Alfred responded. "Something about fairies and unicorns."

Arthur turned a bright shade of crimson. "That's preposterous!" he indignantly stated. "I would never talk to fairies or unicorns."

"Yeah, when you're not high as balls," Alfred snickered. "But it's all good. We know what kind of day you had." He winked at his companion. "No need to get so defensive. We all do weird shit when on that stuff."

"Right," Arthur sighed. He just wanted the conversation dropped. It wasn't fair that Alfred now had something on him while he had nothing on Alfred. He made a mental note to try to get some dirt out if Amelia at church the next morning.

Alfred winked at him and popped the footrest up on his recliner. "I can't wait for you to meet my sister tomorrow! She's so awesome! Only she'll be a little less awesome tomorrow…"

"Because your stuff restarted?"

"Yeah," Alfred answered. "So if she's not as friendly as she'd normally be, you can blame me. It's my fault."

"I have no problem blaming you for things."

Alfred looked up at Arthur and smiled. "You don't, eh? Then I'll find things to blame you for as well." He just hoped that he could actually keep this friendship with Arthur, just the way it was.


	4. Chapter 4

_Ten Months Previous_

Arthur woke up early to find Francis still sleeping next to him. A smile crossed his face, a smile of relief to know he wasn't alone in the morning. But lately, he had begun to feel as if Francis were starting to lose interest in him. That was something he wasn't quite ready to deal with. If he could help it, he would wake up next to Francis every morning and never have to be alone again.

" _Mon cher?_ " Francis asked, eyes gloriously fluttering open. He peered at Arthur with eyes that were like pools of cerulean. "What has you up so early?" His eyes focused on Arthur as he propped his head up on his arm and rolled over to face him. "Is something wrong?"

"No," Arthur slowly said. "Everything is right."

"I'm glad," Francis replied before leaning over and kissing Arthur softly on the mouth. "Now what do you say we wait to put on clothes just a little bit longer, hmm?" His fingers danced across Arthur's chest and down his torso. "Let's get a little friendly before class, no?"

Arthur smirked at him. "I guess we could," he decided. "Come on, Professor Bonnefoy, give me that extra credit assignment."

"I love it when you talk to me like that," Francis sighed out before rolling over on top of Arthur and kissing him passionately, the kick-off to their usual ritual of morning sex.

.

 _Mid-May, 2015, University of Iowa Hospitals and Clinics, Iowa City, Iowa_

"Arthur, wake up already, dude," Alfred was saying as Arthur's eyes opened. "Come on, man, we have to get weighed, remember?" He was softly shaking Arthur's shoulder as the Englishman's eyes focused. "Let's go. Rise and shine."

"Francis?" Arthur softly asked, eyes still adjusting. All he could see at that moment were the blue orbs looking at him, surrounded by blond hair. "Is that you?"

"Who's Francis?" Alfred asked. "It's me, Alfred. Your roommate? Remember me, dude?" He stopped shaking Arthur and walked away. "At least you're awake now. My work here is done." He clapped his hands together as if dusting them off. "Now get up before the nurses come in and see that you're still asleep."

Arthur slowly sat up and sighed. _It was just a dream,_ he told himself. _Francis isn't here. Francis doesn't love you. Francis wanted you dead. It was just a dream. No one loves you. No one will ever love you in that way again._ He put his fists to his eyes and rubbed them before looking over at Alfred. "Oi! Why were you shaking me?" he demanded.

"Nothing else was working to wake you up," Alfred answered with an indifferent shrug. "Figured I should. I was being careful of your jaw, though."

That was true. Arthur's jaw didn't even hurt from Alfred's incessant shaking. In fact, it didn't even hurt at all that morning. That was a surprise to him. Alfred had been so gentle with him, something he wasn't used to.

"Thanks," Arthur said, gingerly touching his jar with his fingertips. He felt only slight pain as he did so, but it was enough to wake him up the rest of the way.

"Don't mention it," Alfred cheerfully said with a wide, toothy grin. "What else are roomies for?" He pulled his shirt over his head and turned away from Arthur as if ashamed. "Besides, your easier to wake up than the last guy." He quickly grabbed the hospital gown that they weighed in with and put it on before Arthur could get a good look at his tiny torso. "That last guy was a drag. At least you're cool."

"I am?" Arthur asked. "What makes me 'cool'?"

"Well, let me think," Alfred said, putting his index finger to his chin as he thought. "You're just really laid back and you're not afraid of anyone or what anyone will say. It's pretty admirable, so you're cool."

Arthur blushed deeply. "Whatever you say, Alfred." He sighed. "What time is church?"

"It's at nine," the American answered with a grin. "And Mia will be really angry with me, so please be patient. She really is a nice girl, I swear." He chuckled to himself. "I'm nothing without her, let me tell you that. She keeps an eye on me and makes sure that I don't do anything too stupid."

"Too stupid meaning?" Arthur asked. "Because I think starving yourself is pretty stupid."

Alfred looked down. "I'm starting to get better," he quietly said. "I want to be healthy, but I don't want to be fat…"

"You're not fat," Arthur stated. "Alfred, it's okay to weigh a lot. Someone will love you for you. Weight is just a number. If someone really cares about you, they'll look past your weight and see the Alfred Jones before them."

"What if they don't like him?" Alfred asked, voice near a whisper.

His roommate walked over and placed a hand on his cheek. "Then I will," he softly said, looking into those screaming blue eyes of Alfred's. He felt his body growing hot, but in a nice and comforting way. Everything about that moment was perfect. That was how he knew his feelings about Alfred were real. His heart began to race as Alfred looked back into his eyes.

For a moment, the two just remained like that, gazing into each other's eyes. No words needed to be said. They began to slowly move closer to each other, turning their heads ever so slightly for their lips to fit together just right when there was a sudden knock on the door.

Alfred jumped away and began to walk toward it. He knew that he had to get to the scale to weigh in. Besides, if he had been caught kissing Arthur, things would have ended badly for both of them. Blowing off a perfect moment that would probably never happen again, he rushed to the hall, almost as if trying to run away from the memory of it as well.

Arthur just stood there for a moment, stunned. Was he really just about to kiss Alfred? What had possessed him to do that? Had he really wanted to kiss him? No! Of course not! But if he didn't, then why was he so disappointed now that he was denied it? Something weird was going on, and he didn't like it at all.

.

At church, in between Arthur and Alfred sat a quite lovely young girl with curly, blonde hair and big blue eyes like her brother's. She was shorter than Arthur, which made him happy since Alfred was so tall. If she had been taller than Arthur, he would've been cantankerous about it all day. She was beautiful, though, and rather petite. If Arthur had even the slightest interest in women, he was certain that she would've been the top of his list.

"Hi, I'm Amelia Jones!" she introduced. "I'm Alfred's twin sister!" She stuck her hand out to Arthur and shook hands with him. "I am so glad to meet you! Al has been telling me all about you!"

"Have not," Alfred grumbled, though his cheeks were a little red.

"So is it true that you're British?" she asked, blue eyes wide like a doll's and sparkling in wonder. "I think that's so cool!"

"You do?" Arthur asked, making sure that his accent was prominent. "That's lovely to hear."

A nurse shushed them as the service began. Alfred, Arthur, and Amelia all pulled out their phones and got onto a messenger app. They were discreet, slipping their phones into Bibles and hymnals as they texted back and forth throughout the service. Unfortunately, it ended too soon and it was time for Amelia to leave.

"I'll hopefully see you next week at church," she said. "If I don't see you earlier, that is." She winked at Arthur. "You have my messenger name. Talk to me if you need me." Amelia giggled. "I'm always available." With that, she skipped off toward the nurse that was calling her name, after giving Alfred a hug, of course.

Arthur turned to Alfred. "She's nice."

"I told you you'd like her," Alfred said with a smirk. "She'll probably be blowing up your phone from now on. Amelia is really nice, but she gets bored easily." He smiled. "In other news, my brother is coming today. I'm pretty excited!"

"Yeah?" the Englishman asked. "That sounds exciting. I doubt I'll ever get a visito-"

"Arthur, you have a visitor waiting for you in the day room," Amber said, walking over to them. "I offered to come and get you from church, but he insisted upon waiting. Would you like to meet with him in your room?"

"Um, sure," Arthur answered. "Mind if I go and see who it is first?"

Amber seemed confused. "Sure," she answered.

"It's just that I'm not expecting anyone," he explained. "And also because I don't know anyone other than my classmates, and they always bring an extra person when they visit. So I honestly have no idea who is visiting me."

Arthur walked down the hallway toward the day room and his heart nearly stopped when he laid eyes on him. Those eyes like pools of cerulean and that long, flowing blond hair. That hourglass frame of his. Just what did he think he was doing here? He was the last person that Arthur wanted to see!

"Leave," was all Arthur could say to him. It was the only word that could come to his mind once he was within talking distance. It was the only word he could manage around the lump in his throat.

"Arthur, be fair," Francis replied, his French accent ringing in Arthur's ears like the serial killer's voice in the ears of his victims in a horror movie. "I am only here to talk."

Arthur slowly shook his head. "Please," he softly pleaded. "I can't do this."

Paying no mind to Arthur's comfort, Francis grabbed his arm and led him down the hallway and away from people. "Arthur, I just need to talk to you," he said. "I need to clear my conscience."

"And what do I get from that?" Arthur sadly asked. "You get a clear conscience and a happy life. I get to live with the fact that I'm still on this earth."

"Please don't talk that way, _mon cher_."

"Don't call me that!" Arthur snapped, anger rising in him. "I'm not your _cher_ anymore! I never was! We all know it!" His eyes were filling with tears. "I loved you, Francis….I loved you. Didn't you know that?"

Francis was silent for a few moments. "I did," he finally said. "But it doesn't matter now. Charlotte and I have unified once again, and we have a baby girl on the way."

"That sounds like a thing you'd say," Arthur growled at him. "I never meant a thing to you, did I? Never!"

"Don't say things like that," Francis pleaded. "Please don't ever say something like that to me. Arthur, you were a first of many things for me."

The Englishman was almost to his limit. "Just leave!" he shouted. "Leave!"

"I'll return on the day you're ready to talk," he simply said before turning to leave. "You have my number. I know you'll never forget it." And then he was gone.

Arthur crouched against the wall like a frightened child, holding his knees as close to his chest as he could get them. He couldn't breathe. He wanted to die. Nothing was going well for him. He felt sick. And that was when he let it all out and cried.

.

That night as they laid in their beds, a strange silence fell between Alfred and Arthur. Neither of them knew what to say, but they were both thinking the same thing. How would they be able to talk to the other about the almost-kiss that morning? It was the elephant in the room, and both were looking directly at it and not saying a word.

"Listen," Arthur softly said, "about this morning…"

"Yeah?" Alfred asked. He rolled over to face Arthur. "What about it?"

"I did want to kiss you," he said. "It's just that I was nervous and then the knock at the door caused you to jump away from me."

"But why would you want to kiss me?" Alfred pulled his blanket up under his chin for extra security as he waited for the answer.

Arthur was silent as he thought. Why _did_ he want to kiss Alfred? That was a good question. "I don't know," he finally decided. "I guess it was a sort of spur of the moment desire."

"Will it ever come back?" the EDO patient asked. Alfred snuggled further into his blanket, closing his eyes as he anxiously awaited Arthur's answer.

"It already has," Arthur answered, sitting up and looking over at him. "The desire to kiss and do so much more. But it's late."

"Why don't you just do it and get it over with?" Alfred asked. "I haven't had any action in months, and it's starting to bug me."

"Yeah, me too," Arthur sighed. "I haven't had sex since the night before I shot myself…." He sighed. "Are you trying to initiate something with me?"

"No one has to know." Alfred stretched a little. "They come and check every fifteen minutes. We'll be fine between those times."

The Englishman's heart began to race. "Wait, you're serious?" he asked. "But my jaw."

"I'll be careful." Alfred was quiet for a few moments. "So what do you say, Arthur? Do you want to fool around with me or not?"

Arthur was almost certain that Alfred could hear his heart beating as they sat there in silence, awaiting his answer. He squirmed a little but then got out of bed. "Get up," he said to Alfred. "They just checked our room before we started this conversation. We have about ten minutes."

Alfred grinned widely at Arthur in the moonlight shining through their window. "I knew you'd come around," he said.

Before Alfred could tease Arthur anymore, the Englishman's hand dove down into his companion's boxers and began feeling around for his length. Alfred went completely still, not expecting Arthur to get down to business so fast as he peppered Alfred's neck with kisses. But once his length was being fondled, Alfred knew he was done for. It had been so long, and it felt so good. He knew he wouldn't last too long.

"We're going to have to find a way to make you last longer if you want to mess around with me," Arthur told him with a wink when he was finished. He carefully and gently kissed Alfred's lips. "Now go wash up, love."

"What about you?" Alfred asked him.

"They'll be checking on us at any moment," Arthur sighed. "You can do me after they check, okay?"

Alfred grinned widely. He wanted to prove to Arthur that he was a better lover than he thought. And the perfect way to prove it was to get Arthur off as well. His grin turned to a smirk as he thought of things he could do to Arthur as he washed himself off.

When he got out of the bathroom, he found Arthur waiting in his bed. "They just did room checks," the Englishman told him. "Now come over here and rock my world."

Alfred walked over to Arthur's bed and climbed in over him, surprising the Englishman. Then again, they didn't weigh much together so it didn't make much noise. The American kissed down his newfound lover's neck, wet and sloppy kisses that caused the Englishman to moan and pray that he wouldn't get any hickeys.

Before too long, the American began to play with his lover's waistband of his pajama pants as he pulled it down more and more until Arthur's member stood at attention between them. Alfred then took the entire length into his mouth and began swirling his tongue around it and bobbing his head.

Arthur tensed up, feeling himself about to release at any moment. It was all just too wonderful to him. Francis was never a lover like this. Alfred was the only lover Arthur had ever had who got straight down to business when it counted.

Alfred wiped his brow when it was all said and done. "So how was that?" he asked, smirking at Arthur in the moonlight.

The Englishman was still panting in bed, gasping for air. "You win," he said. "God damn it all, you win." He quickly pulled Alfred down over him and kissed him as best as he could with his broken jaw and mouth wired shut. "You're amazing."

"Thanks," Alfred said, beaming with pride. "That's what I like to hear." He sat up, straddling Arthur's thighs. "I've got to get to my bed now. They'll be coming in soon to check." His smiled was contagious and caused Arthur to smile softly as well. "We should do this more often."

"Yeah, we should," Arthur agreed. "Well, goodnight, love."

Alfred froze for a moment on his way back to his bed. He then remembered that "love" was just what they said over in England and tried to stop his heart from racing so much. He made a mental note not to get too attached to Arthur. Besides, he shouldn't. Hospital friendships and relationships never lasted anyway…

.

Arthur woke up the next morning, feeling better than he had in months. He knew it was all thanks to Alfred and tried not to blush as he thought of what had happened the night before. He stretched in his bed and opened his eyes to see Alfred making his bed.

Alfred turned around and smiled at Arthur. "Wow, I didn't even have to wake you up this morning," he laughed. "That's a new first."

"Did last night really happen?" Arthur found himself asking.

"What about last night?" Alfred asked, cocking his head to the side. "Oh, you mean _that_. Yeah, it happened. I think that's why we're both so cheery this morning, don't you think?"

Arthur shrugged. "It could be."

There was a knock at the door as Dr. Wang came in and noticed the scene. "Arthur, you're awake," he said, beaming. "That's wonderful news. I thought for sure you'd be sleeping." He turned to Alfred. "And you seem productive. Must be that whole, 'new start, new me' sort of thing, huh?"

"Something like that, Yao," Alfred answered with a grin. He then left the room.

"Arthur, would you mind answering a question for me," Dr. Wang said to his patient.

"What is it?" Arthur asked.

"Did you have sexual relations with your roommate last night?"


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Jiri and Alena are the Czech Republi9c and Slovakia._

 _Another A/N: I am so sorry for being inactive. A lot has gone wrong in my life recently, which took away my ability to write for awhile. I fell into a deep depression for three months, and I'm just now starting to come out of it. I was starting to in September until someone dear to me committed suicide, so I fell back into it even harder. I sincerely apologize for not bringing you any updates for such a long time. Please understand that I wasn't well these past few months. But I'm back to updating regularly, even if I have to just sit and stare at my roommate's computer screen all night while wrapped up in my blanket because he keeps the apartment cold since he's a tool like that. (Just kidding, he's awesome!) But please accept my apology for being terrible to my readers. I'll be working on updates a lot more often than before, I promise! I think I've finally got my writing ability back! Thank you for being so patient with me during my hard times! You guys are the true MVP's!_

 _._

Arthur froze as his blood ran cold. How could Dr. Wang already know that? How did he catch on so quickly? Then his mind went back to what Alfred said about them being lovers in the past. Of course he could tell that they had! This was bad! This was very bad! What could Arthur do?

"I don't quite understand what you're talking about," Arthur answered as normally as he could manage. "What do you mean by that? You think we slept together?" He then gained an unexpected tone of false offense. "How dare you think such a thing! I can hardly stand the bloke! He probably just wanked off in the shower or something!" Arthur crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Dr. Wang. "Honestly, Dr. Wang! How could you?"

Dr. Wang bowed his head. "I apologize," he calmly said. "We doctors tend to assume the worst when it comes to those kinds of things, but I believe you, Arthur. Please don't make me regret that."

"And just how would I do that?" Arthur demanded, becoming more and more angrily defensive by the moment.

"By believing you, I'm trusting that you are telling the truth," the doctor explained. "And if you're just a really good liar, it's my ass in the end. You understand that, right?" He watched as Arthur nodded. "Then I'll trust that nothing happened between the two of you." Dr. Wang sighed. "Now, let's continue with you morning assessment."

.

"So what did Yao say?" Alfred asked as all of the EDO patients gathered in the day room after breakfast. "Are we in trouble?"

Arthur gasped in mock offense. "Do you really not trust my ability to lie to others?" He crossed his arms and looked away from his roommate. "Don't talk to me. I'm mad at you now."

Alfred gave him an impressed look. "You seriously got away with lying to Yao?" he asked. "No one has ever been able to do that! Not even Leon! And trust me, Leon is the best liar I have ever met in my life."

"Who the flying fuck is Leon?" Arthur asked, confused.

His roommate let out a howling laugh. "Sorry, I forgot that you know nothing about Yao's personal life. Leon is his little brother that he's the guardian of." He patted Arthur's shoulder. "I tend to get way too ahead of myself sometimes, so I'm sorry." Alfred blushed a bit. "Anyway," he began, trying to think of a topic to cover his slight blunder, "I think Mattie is coming today. It should be fun. I enjoy seeing my brother. But I think he's going to go and see Amelia first. Boo! She sucks ass."

"I'm telling her you said that," Arthur stated, whipping out his cell phone.

Alfred's blue eyes widened. "Anything but that!" he begged.

Arthur typed out a quick message and sent it. "Already done."

The other blond sighed in defeat. "Why do you do this to me? Do you have a death wish for me or something? Do you _want_ my sister to kill me?"

There was a wink of an emerald eye followed by a smug smile. "Perhaps," he stated.

"That's just cruel," Alfred commented. "Give me your phone. I want to see what you wrote to her."

"Over my dead body!"

Alfred reached over him. "That could easily be arranged!"

"In your dreams, Jones! If suicide can't kill me, you can't either!"

Moments later, the two were in such fits of laughter that the message to Amelia was forgotten and they were being shushed by nursing staff because apparently there were other patients sleeping. Neither of the two men cared as they continued laughing, only slightly quieter than before.

Arthur never thought he would ever be friends with someone like Alfred in his life. Where Arthur was glum, moody, and boring, Alfred was excitable, energetic, and eccentric. In a way, it was as if Alfred were everything Arthur wished he could be. Who knew, maybe one day he would be able to learn to laugh and smile the way Alfred did. Then maybe he wouldn't be such a stick in the mud when it came to others. He would have to ask his roommate to teach him his ways.

All happiness was pushed aside when Arthur was informed that he had two visitors. The only thing on Arthur's mind was the thought of who they could be. He knew that after yesterday, Francis wouldn't show his face for awhile. Other than him, Arthur couldn't think of who would want to come and visit him, especially after he tried to kill himself.

His emerald eyes then landed on a man and a woman his age, and he instantly knew who they were. They were his two friends from class back when he was studying to be a surgeon. They were actually the two who worked together to remove the bullet from his sinuses. He knew he was forever in their debt, so he knew he had to see them even though he didn't want to at all.

The man walked over. "Hey, Arthur," he said. "Long time no see. How have you been holding up?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Hello, Jiri," he greeted. "How do you think I'm holding up with this crazy American bastard for a roommate?" He pointed his thumb over at Alfred, who snickered behind his hand. His eyes then landed on the woman who came as well. "How are you, Alena? Hopefully Jiri isn't being too much of a bother to you."

The woman giggled. "He's not a bother at all. I've been dealing with him for about twenty years now," she said. She walked up behind Jiri and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Jiri is actually going to walk me to work when we're done here, aren't you, Jiri?"

Jiri looked surprised but then smiled. "Of course I am, Alena."

Arthur made a whipping motion with his hand, complete with the noises. "That's what you are, Jiri."

"Oh, shut up," Jiri scoffed. "It's not like you have a beautiful girl who asks you to walk her to work."

Arthur chuckled to himself. "She didn't ask, Jiri."

Alena's face was bright red, but she didn't say anything. She just struggled to hide herself behind her brunette hair as best as she could. Everyone thought that she and Jiri were a couple, when they were really just childhood friends who had grown up as next door neighbors. Why couldn't anyone understand that just because they were best friends they didn't have to be lovers as well? It just didn't seem fair to her.

On the other hand, Jiri had been in love with Alena all his life, and everybody knew it. His family had once taken him to a fortune teller, who told him that she was in his future. They all instantly assumed it was marriage and were all working toward it. He never tried to hide his love for Alena. In fact, he was quite shameless about it, taking every opportunity he could to hold her hand or something like that, never knowing how Alena really felt about it.

Arthur personally wanted them to be together. He liked them as a couple and wished that they would just stop kidding everyone and just date already, but Alena was highly adamant about not dating Jiri. Eventually he gave up trying to tease her and convince her into it. If she really wanted to date him, she would just go for it herself. She didn't need the help of Arthur or anyone else.

"W-What's wrong with him walking me to work?" she asked, staring over at Arthur. "It's not like anything is going to happen. I just feel more comfortable having a man walk me to work in a city like this. Is that so wrong?"

The Englishman winked at her. "Keep telling yourself that, love."

"I didn't come here to be teased by the two of you," Alena scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "If you're going to be that way, I'll wait out by the elevator."

"We're sorry," Jiri quickly said, turning to her. "Arthur will stop."

"But will I?" he asked.

Jiri turned to Arthur and glared at him. " _Arthur will stop_."

Arthur threw his hands up in defense. "Arthur will stop," he confirmed.

Alena smiled brightly. "Thank you, Arthur." She stepped over to him and grabbed his hand. "What do you say we go to your room and talk? The nurses said that would be fine as long as we watch you carefully and don't let you use the bathroom without them knowing." Her body swivelled in the direction of his room as she pulled on his hand. "Come on, I want to see your room!"

"So now you're coming onto me?" Arthur asked in mock excitement.

She turned around and smirked. "In your dreams, Artie. Let's go."

Arthur let himself be pulled up by her and led them to his and Alfred's room. "This is mine and Alfred's room," he said once he closed the door. "Alfred is the bloke with the glasses who was sitting next to me."

"Oh, you mean the cute blond one!" Alena said with a giggle.

"Yeah, sure. Him," Arthur muttered.

"Oh, come on, Arthur, you know he's cute!" Alena teased. "I know your taste. You totally have the hots for your roommate."

The Englishman scoffed and crossed his arms, stubbornly looking away from her. "You wish! You just want to fantasize about our gaybies like you did with Francis and I."

"But gaybies are so cute!" Alena quietly squealed.

Arthur put a hand to his forehead in dismay. "What am I going to do with you?" he sighed.

"We both know that you're totally gay for your roommate, so why not just admit it?" Jiri stated. "It was really obvious when we entered. We could hear your laughter from the door. You haven't laughed like that since Francis. Just admit it, Arthur. Your roommate has you wrapped around his little finger, and you like that."

The blond pouted a little, but he didn't deny a single thing. "Fine, you're right. I like Alfred. So what of it? It's not like hospital relationships last anyway. No one stays in contact with the people they meet in the hospital, especially on a psych unit." He sighed. "Alfred will forget about me as soon as he leaves this place, so why should I get attached if I'll only be forgotten in the end?"

"Not all hospital friendships end that way," Jiri told him. "My dad still has friends from when he was diagnosed with cancer."

"That's different," Arthur sighed. "It wasn't a psych unit. When you leave a place like this, you want to forget everything about it, even the people you met."

"Why do you think Alfred is like that?" Alena asked. "He seems like a nice guy."

"That's why he would want to forget me, a moody Brit who tried to off himself and failed to do so." Arthur frowned, knowing full well just how pathetic he looked and sounded.

"You really think you're that forgettable?" Jiri asked. "You should have seen how Francis took your suicide attempt. If you hadn't put him on your block list at the hospital, I bet he would have come and begged your forgiveness."

"Well they forgot to add him to me block list here," Arthur sighed. "He came to see me yesterday, but I really wasn't in the mood. He's the worst, and I never want to see his face again."

"Are you sure about that, Artie?" Alena asked. "You two were nearly inseparable before what happened. Why is he suddenly the enemy?"

"Why?" Arthur asked. "Why, you ask?" He was nearly trembling as he remembered the night he had attempted suicide. It was so clear, as if it had only happened yesterday. Arthur doubted he would ever forget that night, the night his heart was smashed to pieces by the one person he thought would love him forever.

.

 _Six Months Previous_

"Can we talk about something?" Francis asked Arthur one night as they sat in his car outside of Arthur's apartment. He placed a hand on Arthur's knee and inhaled deeply.

"We can talk about anything, love," Arthur told him with a smile. "You know that there are no secrets between us." He placed a hand on top of Francis's hand, intertwining their fingers. His heart beat steadily in his chest. In his eyes, there was no man more perfect than Francis Bonnefoy. "Is something wrong?"

Francis exhaled quickly, blowing out all of the air in one strong puff. _It's now or never, Bonnefoy_ , he told himself. "There is no easy way to say this, but…"

"Are you…" Arthur's voice trailed off. "Are you breaking up with me, Francis?"

"Charlotte," Francis stiffly said, "is pregnant…"

The Englishman felt his eyes filling with tears. "What does that even have to do with you? She left you months ago!"

His professor bowed his head. "She's my wife, Arthur, and she needs me."

"But _I_ need you," the other man stated. "What about me? You're just going to abandon me like this? I gave you everything, and suddenly I'm just not good enough anymore? You're going to throw me away for a woman who left you to be with another man?"

"Arthur, I need you to understand the situation that I'm in. That baby could be mine, for all I know."

"And if it's not?" Arthur dared to challenge.

"Then I'll raise it as if it were."

Arthur felt his eyes watering. "This isn't fair. Just months ago, you said you were never going back to her, and suddenly she's the light of your life once again. What the fuck is wrong with you, Francis? Do you tell everyone things like this? Do you just string everyone along?"

Francis was quiet for a moment. "No," he slowly said. "And I didn't string you along. I really like you, but my wife needs to come first. I have a legal obligation to her."

The Englishman couldn't believe his ears. Since when was Charlotte more important than him when he had been there for Francis the whole time. Had Francis just been using him. The thought of that put his stomach in a knot and caused his breathing to cease. He had to get out of there and fast. He remembered muttering an excuse and leaving the car, but then everything else became a blur to him.

.

 _Six Months Later_

Arthur felt a tear slip down his cheek. He quickly brought a hand up and wiped it away, so as not to look weak and emotional in front of Jiri and Alena. "He's the reason I shot myself," he snarled, lips curling against his teeth as he tried to hide his hurt. "Francis is the reason I wanted to die."

Alena and Jiri gasped, but that stopped them from pressing any further on the topic of Francis and Arthur. Even if they didn't understand what happened, they knew better than to trigger Arthur any further than they already had.

.

Later that day, Arthur sat in a recliner next to Alfred, absently watching the television. There was nothing good on, so they were all watching Judge Judy. Though Judy was quite sassy yet stern, Arthur wasn't amused by the courtroom antics that day. Instead, he felt as if there were a raincloud over his head and it was metaphorically raining on him.

"What is up with you today?" Alfred asked him. 'You've been all gloomy since your friends left? Do you not like them or something?"

"What's it to you?" Arthur grumbled at him, glancing over at the American. "It's not like it concerns you in any way, shape, or form. Don't worry about it."

"You're obviously upset about something," Alfred stated. "So what are you upset about?"

"Why do I have to tell you?" the Englishman demanded. "It's not like I owe you anything, do I?"

"I guess," he sighed. "I just like to think that we're friends." Alfred turned his attention back to the television. "But if you're going to be that way, then I guess I don't really want to know."

Arthur felt bad for snapping at Alfred like that, but he didn't know what else to do. Ever since Jiri and Alena compared moments between him and Alfred to moments between him and Francis, he grew more and more afraid of getting close to the American. After all, if it was anything like his time with the Frenchman, he had learned only one thing. Alfred would only leave him in the end.

.

That night as they laid in their beds in pure darkness, Alfred cleared his throat to get Arthur's attention. When Arthur didn't respond, he tried it again. And when he did it a third time, that was when Arthur finally reacted.

"Oh, bloody hell, Al, what do you want?" he demanded. "I'm trying to sleep."

"Well that'd be nice if I could sleep as well, but I can't when knowing that you're unreasonably angry with me," Alfred said. He pouted to himself, knowing that Arthur couldn't see it. "Just tell me what I did wrong and I'll fix it."

Arthur groaned. "Why do you always think you're the problem? Not everything is about you, you know." He tried to think of the way to word it. "You did nothing wrong," he slowly said. "It's me. It's all me."

"What the hell do you mean?" Alfred asked, rolling over to face Arthur's bed. "I don't understand. Why would you do something like this to yourself?"

"Because I'm not supposed to have a happy ending," he blurted out. "I fooled around with a married man for eight months. He left me for his wife. I attempted suicide and got stuck living. Meeting you seemed like a miracle, let me tell you, but I know one day you'll just leave me too."

"And who said that?" Alfred demanded, sitting up in bed. "I would never do something as heartless as that."

"You will once you come to your senses like Francis did."

Alfred hopped out of bed and sat on the edge of Arthur's, grabbing his hand with both of his and stroking it. "When will you realize it, Arthur? Dammit. When will you realize it?"

"Realize what?"

"You're stupid. You're so damn stupid that I constantly have to spell things out for you. You're a fucking moron."

"Pardon?" he demanded as he began to feel offended.

The American patient squinted until he could see Arthur's face perfectly in the dark. He bent down and sweetly kissed Arthur's lips. "When will you realize that I'm not Francis? I'm not like him. I'm not going to leave you for someone else, because for me, there's no one else. Don't you get that? I like _you_. What's so hard to understand about that? I'm not Francis. I will never be Francis." Frustrated, he got back up and went to his bed, throwing his blanket back over himself. "Goodnight, Arthur."

Arthur's eyes were wide like saucers. He didn't expect Alfred to be so blunt and to get so frustrated. Was this how all Americans were? Either way, he laid there half the night thinking about Alfred's words and how much they truly meant to him.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: So my garbage self wound up in the hospital once more. But get this. I wound up on 1 JP West in the same room Alfred and Arthur are in! Not only that, but I have an EDO roommate with a broken jaw who sleeps in the same bed that Arthur sleeps in. It's a really strange deja vu for sure. I'm not sure how I feel about it. Now all I can do is hope to get better._

.

 _Early May, 2015, University of Iowa Hospitals and Clinics, Iowa City, Iowa_

Arthur watched as a new patient was brought onto the unit. He had long, blond hair and sapphire blue eyes, yet that wasn't the first thing Arthur had noticed about him. The patient's arms and legs were covered in tattoos, and he had many piercings to go with it, his earlobes stretched out with gauges. But as Arthur watched the new patient sit in the corner all alone, he noticed how sad he really looked.

A tall, handsome man with blond hair and sparkly, blue eyes came onto the unit and took a seat next to the new patient. He spoke to the patient in soft, gentle tones and held one of the patient's hands in both of his. It was obvious that the two were close, possibly even lovers.

The handsome man looked over and saw Arthur looking at them. He smiled and walked over, bringing the new patient with him as well. "Are you a patient here?" he asked the Englishman, sitting next to him and pulling the new patient onto his knee.

"I am," Arthur slowly said. "Is there something I can help you with?" He looked over at the tattooed man and instantly noticed that he was crying. It made his chest tighten, having never seen someone look so lost before. Internally, he wondered what had brought this new patient into the hospital in the first place.

"You seem to have read my mind! My name is Mathias Køhler, and this is my husband Lukas," the handsome man introduced. "We have recently been dealing with the greatest tragedy and hardship ever dealt us, and it finally got the best of Lukas." Mathias frowned. "When I'm not here, could you try to keep an eye on him for me? I've never seen him this upset. Even if it's just sitting with him in silence, just having someone there with him will make me feel better."

Lukas scrubbed at his eyes with his wrists. "I'm fine," he grumbled at his husband. "I shouldn't even have to be here anyway."

Mathias glared at Lukas. "I'm not getting into this with you again. You're here for a reason, so just accept it and try to cope. That's all I'm asking."

Out of nowhere, Lukas began sobbing into Mathias's shoulder, unable to control it anymore. Mathias simply held him close and rubbed his back soothingly. The only thing Arthur could hear was Lukas softly saying, "It's all my fault," and Mathias muttering things about it not being his fault at all. It made Arthur wonder what had happened to have truly broken this man.

Dr. Wang walked over to Arthur. "Good morning, Arthur," he greeted. "Do you mind if we go and talk somewhere?"

Lukas's head snapped up when he heard Dr. Wang's voice. "Yao?" he asked, wide-eyed.

The doctor got a sad expression on his face as he looked at Lukas. "I am sorry, Lukas, but I am not your doctor, so I cannot speak to you at this time." He tried to ignore Lukas's crestfallen face before adding, "I'll see if I have time after seeing my patients."

Arthur led the way to his room, confused. "Dr. Wang, do you know Lukas outside of here?" he quietly asked. "It seemed like he knew you." The patient bit his lip. "Do you know what happened to him?"

Dr. Wang sighed. "I am not allowed to discuss other patients with you, Arthur," he slowly said. "But all I can say is that Lukas is going through something awful that is affecting my own family as well."

The EDO patient didn't ask any further after that. If he was meant to know, he would find out soon enough from Lukas. That's all there was to it. Yet at the same time, he wondered whether he really wanted to know or not.

.

When Arthur got done talking to Dr. Wang, he found Alfred talking to Mathias, Lukas softly snoring on his husband's lap. He quickly took a seat next to Alfred, his roommate turning to smile at him before turning back to their handsome new friend. The Englishman found comfort in knowing that even though Lukas was asleep, at least he was calm.

"I'm sorry to hear about all of that," Alfred softly said. "It must have been rough. No wonder Lukas is so worn out."

Mathias sighed and frowned. "It's been hard on all of us," he answered. "I don't even want to hear what things are like at Yao's house, you know?"

Alfred cringed. "I couldn't even imagine," he slowly replied. "I'll be sure to keep an eye on Lukas for you. It's the least I could do." He flashed Mathias a sympathetic smile. "I will make sure not to bring things like that up."

"Thank you," Mathias answered. "I know that Lukas will flip, you know? He hasn't been taking any of it well at all. And I heard Leon is even worse off than him."

"What do you mean by 'worse off'?"

"I heard he hasn't been sober since the day it happened," the visitor answered. "He's either keeping up a high or drinking so much that he can't think anymore."

A frown crossed Alfred's face. "That poor kid. He doesn't deserve to suffer this much. No one deserves to suffer like this." He was quiet for a moment. "I'll keep all of you in my thoughts."

"Thanks," Mathias softly said. He checked his phone for the time. "I need to get to work soon, so I'm going to take Lukas to his room so he can get a little bit of sleep. I've already told the nurses not to let him isolate, so we'll see what happens." He shrugged. "Thanks for talking with me, Al. It was nice seeing you again. It was nice meeting you as well, Arthur."

Arthur blinked in surprise. Since when was he part of the conversation? "Same to you, Mathias," he automatically responded. "I'm sorry we had to meet under such circumstances."

"Same here," Mathias sighed before gently shaking Lukas awake. "Let's go lay down, eh?"

Lukas slowly nodded, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. " _Ja_ ," he sleepily agreed. He slowly stood up, stumbling a little before his husband hooked an arm around his waist. " _Tack_ ," he yawned.

"I'll catch you two later," Mathias said, saluting Alfred and Arthur before half carrying Lukas down the hallway.

"He's so supportive and kind," Arthur fondly said to Alfred. "Why can't more men like him exist? I would kill to have one."

Alfred crossed his arms over his chest, slightly offended. "What's wrong with the one you've got?" he huffed. "Am I just not good enough or something? What makes Mat so special?"

"It was just an observation, love," the Englishman stated, smiling to himself. "I'm quite content with what I have. I couldn't truly ask for better." He reached over and patted the top of Alfred's hand reassuringly. "No one could replace my roommate."

The American perked up a bit as they watched Mathias walk to the nurse's station to be let out of the unit. With a quick wave, the handsome man was gone. Alfred sighed and stared down into his lap.

"What's wrong, love?" Arthur asked him, concerned. "You seem upset about something."

"Mathias," Alfred slowly said, "how does he do it? How can he manage to be so handsome, tall, and muscular when he has so much meat on his bones? How does he manage to pull it off so well? I could only dream of looking that handsome one day. It's not fair. I try so hard to get myself to look like that, and I end up looking like this." He gestured to his thin frame, frowning. "It's just not fair, Arthur. Why did I have to be the one cursed with this horrible mental disease? Why couldn't it have been someone who could handle it better and actually recover? Look at me, I'm a mess. We all know that if I keep up what I'm doing, I'll be dead in no time."

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut. "Al, please don't say that. I don't want to believe it."

"No one does," his roommate sighed. "When I first got here, they had to tube me. I had never been more terrified in my life. Like, I seriously thought I was going to die. It was horrific." Alfred shook his head. "The point when they have to tube you is when you know you've hit rock bottom. It's devastating knowing that you life is now in the hands of your disorder."

"I couldn't imagine what that would be like," the Englishman responded. He was at a loss for words, feeling more and more sorry for Alfred by the moment. "We'll talk more about this tonight in our room."

.

That night, once observation was over at nine, Alfred and Arthur returned to their room. After they changed into their pajamas, they were getting ready to talk before they heard Lukas crying out from his room. His voice sounded as if he were in agony, as if someone had attacked him without him knowing.

" _Hvorfor, Emil?! Hvorfor gjorde du dette?! Kom tilbake! Jeg vil ha min lillebror tilbake!_ " Lukas cried from his room. " _Faen!_ " he shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Lukas, we understand that you're upset, but it's bedtime. We're going to have to ask you to quiet down," Amber was heard saying. "Would you like a PRN to calm you down?"

There was a door slam that shook Alfred and Arthur's door as they turned to each other. Moments later, they heard a code green being called over the intercom. Both patients sighed to each other and held hands in anticipation.

"I can't listen to this," Arthur whispered to Alfred. "That poor man. He sounds heartbroken. Whatever happened to him must have been truly terrible."

"It was," Alfred softly told him. "Mathias told me what had happened, and my heart aches for them." He sat Arthur down on his bed and sat next to him. "Here, how about I help you?" His hand reached over behind Arthur's head, guiding it over to his chest so that one ear was covered by his hand and the other was over his heart.

Arthur closed his eyes, trying to focus more on Alfred's heartbeat than Lukas's screaming. He felt his hands grabbing his roommate in a vicious death grip. "Make it stop," he whispered over and over.

The American realized his method wasn't working all that well and went for something else. He put his hand under Arthur's chin and tilted his head up. "Look at me," he softly said.

His emerald eyes locked with Alfred's blue ones. "Please," he whispered to his roommate. "Please distract me. Anything would be nice."

"As you wish," Alfred answered before cupping his roommate's face in his hands and kissing him deeply. His tongue tangled with Arthur's in the Englishman's mouth. His fingers tangled themselves into Arthur's shaggy hair. He smiled into the kiss as Arthur moved into his lap. One of his hands moved down to his roommate's thigh as he continued kissing him.

Arthur squirmed a little in Alfred's lap until the American's hand was on his upper thigh. He gasped against his roommate's lips when he felt Alfred's hand move higher up until it was resting firmly on his hardened length. The Englishman had started to breathe heavily before straddling Alfred's hips.

There was a sudden knock on the door before it could be heard opening. Arthur quietly threw himself off of Alfred's lap and covered his own lap with a blanket, making it look like they were deep in conversation.

"Sorry about the disturbance," Amber sighed, walking in. "Is there anything I can get for you two at all?"

Alfred shrugged. "I don't think there is, Amber." He thought for a moment. "But thanks for checking in. Is Lukas going to be okay?"

Amber frowned and leaned heavily against the door. "We've got him calmed down for now, so I'd say yes. He's just going through a really hard time right now."

"Yeah, his husband talked to me earlier," Alfred sighed. "I know that his stuffed bunny calms him down, though. Maybe you could give that to him?"

"I'm sorry, but I can't discuss Lukas's condition any further with you," she sighed. "HIPPA laws and all that. You know how that goes."

Arthur and Alfred slowly nodded as Arthur said, "I hope he gets the help he needs. Poor bloke."

"Well since you two don't need anything, I'll let you get some rest. Someone will be in at six to wake you up to be weighed," the nurse said. "Goodnight, guys."

As soon as the door shut, Alfred and Arthur resumed what they had been doing before, only taking brief breaks when the staff came to do room checks.

.

The next day, Matthew and his fiance came to visit Alfred, so Arthur was all alone in the day room when Lukas walked in, wearing a hospital gown and a robe. Arthur noticed that Lukas was clutching a worn down stuffed bunny to his chest. He wondered if that was the bunny that Alfred had been talking about the night before. To Arthur, Lukas looked similar to a lost child, minus all of the tattoos and piercings.

"Would you like to come sit over here?" Arthur asked him, gesturing to the empty seat next to him. "I can't bite. My mouth is wired shut."

Lukas slowly nodded and sat next to him without saying a word. It was quite obvious that he had been crying, but it wasn't like Arthur was going to say anything about it.

"Is Mathias coming to see you today?" the Englishman asked, trying to make conversation.

" _Ja_ ," the other patient softly said, rubbing his eyes. "I think he's bringing my new glasses. I broke my last pair about a month ago…" Lukas's face held a somber expression. "I was so mad at him that I couldn't think straight…"

"You were mad at Mathias?"

"No," Lukas whispered. "Not Mathias…" He clutched the bunny tighter as he struggled to hold back tears, shaking his head slowly.

Arthur realized that this was a sensitive topic and backed off. "I take it your bunny is special to you? How long have you had it?"

Lukas patted the bunny's head. "My grandmother made it for me when I was a child," he answered, calming down once more. "I was always her favorite grandchild." He smiled to himself. "I've recently added a new touch to it, though." He pointed a slim finger to a cross-stitch over where the bunny's heart would be. It looked like the Icelandic flag. "It makes things more bearable."

The Englishman nodded. "Thank you for sharing, Lukas," he told the other patient.

The tattooed patient simply nodded and looked toward the door when he heard the visitor alarm go off. His sapphire eyes, which had seemed so lifeless before, brightened up the moment he saw Mathias walking toward him. He jumped up and ran to his husband, wrapping his arms tightly around the other man.

Mathias kissed the top of Lukas's head as he hugged him back. "You're acting like you haven't seen me in weeks," he laughed. "Just yesterday you told me to get lost when I left."

Arthur chuckled to himself. How he wished for a love like theirs, one where all can be forgiven simply at the sight of each other. He wondered what a real love with Alfred would be like. One where they didn't have to hide it from anyone and could just enjoy their time together outside of a hospital. That would be ideal.

"Mornin', Arthur!" Mathias cheerfully greeted, sitting in the chair Lukas had been previously occupying. He pulled his husband down onto his knee and snuggled him close. "I barely slept last night without Lukas there," he admitted. "It was my first time sleeping without him in four years."

Lukas elbowed Mathias in the stomach. "Don't tell people stuff like that," he grumbled. His cheeks were dusted with a hint of blush. "It's embarrassing."

Mathias rubbed his cheek against his husband's. "I will say anything I feel like saying," he said. "I should be able to brag about my handsome Norwegian. Honestly, I brag about about how hot you are and how good you are in bed and-"

The patient stared at his husband with wide eyes, jaw dropped. "Mathias Køhler!" he squeaked out. "That is stuff you don't just tell people!" His face was bright red as he his it in Mathias's shoulder. "Why would you just openly say that?" he groaned, voice slightly muffled.

"Because you're so cute when you're embarrassed," Mathias laughed. He quickly caught Lukas's fist before it could collide with his throat. "Come on now, Luke, you don't want to hurt me."

"I will if it means you'll shut up," Lukas grumbled back. "Don't test me, Mathias. I _will_ throat punch you."

That only made his cheerful husband cuddle him closer. " _Jeg elsker dig_ ," he cheerfully laughed.

"Pardon me, but what language is that?" Arthur asked, confused.

"Oh," Mathias began, laughing heartily. "We are actually immigrants. I met Lukas in Trondheim, Norway on a business trip years ago. That's where he's from, and I am a businessman who is originally from Copenhagen, Denmark."

Arthur's eyes widened. "So you're from Europe as well?" he asked, smiling. "I grew up in London, England and came to America to study to become a surgeon. Unfortunately that dream of being a surgeon ended when my classmates had to remove a bullet from my sinuses."

The Dane cringed. "I'm sorry to hear that, Arthur," he said. "Things of that sort are hard. What drove you to do it?" He then realized what he just asked and cringed even more. "Wait! Forget I asked that! It's none of my business. I'm so sorry for asking!"

The Englishman waved him off carelessly. "I don't mind discussing it." He took a deep breath. "There was a man that I saw as my soulmate. My God, he was amazing. But he decided he wanted his ex-wife back and left me out to dry. I thought my world was over, and I shot myself." Arthur shrugged. "Now I'm here, and my jaw is wired shut. Everything hurts all the time."

Lukas frowned. "That sounds terrible, Arthur," he sympathized. "I couldn't imagine what it would be like to survive something like that." He frowned and placed a hand on Arthur's arm. "I'm glad you're still alive. I see you with your roommate out here a lot, and I hope that maybe you can add him to your list of reasons to live. I've known Al for a couple years now, and I must say he's a great person to be around."

Arthur smiled to himself. "That he is," he agreed. "I appreciate having him in my life. Lukas, I hope you never leave Mathias behind. I understand that life can be overwhelming and hard at times, but that doesn't mean that we should give up."

The Norwegian man's face was hijacked by a frown. "You don't understand, Arthur. Other than Mat, I have nothing left to live for," he softly said. "It's hard to keep going when you failed the only person you had ever been responsible for." He hugged his stuffed bunny tighter to him. "It's something that will haunt me for the rest of my life…"

"What happened to that person?" Arthur asked.

Lukas clapped a hand over his mouth as tears suddenly came to his eyes. He shook his head vigorously before burying his head in Mathias's shoulder once more. "It's all my fault!" he whimpered.

"It's kind of a touchy subject," Mathias explained, rubbing his husband's back. "A month is too short of an amount of time to get over what happened." He then turned his attention to Lukas. "It's not your fault," he started whispering to him. "It had nothing to do with you."

Arthur was confused, but he kept his silence. Maybe one day he would know what happened to Lukas and Mathias. Until then, he was just going to be patient.

His mind then went to Alfred. If Alfred was in Francis's shoes after Arthur tried to shoot himself, would Arthur want to see him? Would Alfred snuggle him in understanding like Mathias did with Lukas? Would Alfred understand?


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: What's this? An update after over a year! Damn right it is! Skylar is back, y'all! I hope you enjoy this update of "Disenchanted"! Please review if you enjoyed it!_

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After a long weekend with absolutely nothing to do, Alfred, Arthur, and Lukas all gathered in the day room around the table. They were playing Rummy as they chatted about many things, trying to forget their circumstances and what had brought them together in the first place. Alfred chattered on and on about nothing in particular as Lukas tried his best to keep up with the topic changes while Arthur sighed to himself over how excitable his roommate was being.

"I think they're going to let me out either tomorrow or Tuesday," Lukas said once he was able to get a word in around Alfred. "They say that I don't seem like much of a danger to myself anymore, so they plan to let me go as long as I keep up with therapy and all that shit."

"That sounds great," Arthur replied. "I'm glad that you'll be able to go home and be with Mathias. I'll bet he worries about you every night."

"Yeah," the Norwegian man sighed. "He has a lot of trouble sleeping when I'm not there, I guess." He scratched the side of his head, looking mentally distracted. "We won't have any more troubles like that once I'm out of here, though." His voice sounded distant as he continued, as if he were lost in his own words. "Everything will be solved and we won't be hurting anymore."

Alfred's eyes widened behind his glasses. "What do you mean by that?" he asked, picking up a card off the top of the deck and frowning before discarding it. "I'm glad that you won't be hurting anymore, but how will everything be solved."

Lukas didn't look away from his cards as he drew from the top of the deck and smiled to himself. "We will be together again," he stated, voice still distant. He proceeded to lay down the cards in his hand. "Looks like I win again." His hand went up to his mouth as he yawned. "It's getting late, so I'm going to head off to bed. I'll see you guys in the morning."

Only once Lukas was gone did Alfred quickly scrape up the cards. From the fumbling he was doing, Arthur could tell that something was plaguing Alfred's mind. Alfred looked worried about something, and it showed as he failed to put all of the cards back in the deck box, five times.

Arthur slowly took the cards from Alfred's hands before slipping them into the box with ease. "Alfred?" he asked. "Is everything alright?" He couldn't help but worry about the man before him after seeing such a troubled look on his face. "You seem bothered."

Alfred anxiously pointed in the direction that Lukas had left in. "Something's not right," he stated. "The things Lukas was saying don't sound right. There is no way anything about his home life will ever be solved in just a few days. There is just no fucking way." He clenched his fist and then relaxed his hand over and over again. "Something seems really off about all of that, and it's making me nervous."

"What are you talking about?" Arthur asked. He glanced at the clock and saw that it was quarter after nine. "Let's go to our room and talk more."

Once in the room, Alfred paced back and forth as Arthur sat on his bed and watched him, confused. He had never seen the American like this. It were almost as if he would spontaneously combust if he even dared to stop moving for even a moment. The anxious aura coming off of Alfred began to fill the room. Just what exactly was going on?

"Alfred, please tell me what's wrong," Arthur pleaded. "Why are you so worried about Lukas going home? What could make you so anxious about him and Mathias being together again?"

"It's not about Mathis," the bespectacled man stated, shaking his head. "It's about the reason why Lukas is here." Alfred sighed, raking his fingers through his blond hair in frustration. "Lukas's home life underwent a drastic change about a month ago, a change so huge that he was overwhelmed by everything and tried to kill himself a few days ago after deciding that he couldn't take it anymore." He sighed. "This is bad, Arthur. This is really bad. The situation at Lukas's home will never be solved, no matter how much time it takes. Nothing will ever be okay at their house again."

"What are you talking about? You're scaring me, Alfred," the Englishman quietly said. He was still unaware of what had happened, but from the way they all acted, it was something truly devastating.

"Lukas and Mathias weren't the only ones who immigrated here at the time," Alfred softly said, stopping in front of his own bed. "There was another person with them. He was Lukas's younger brother, Emil, who was from Iceland. Lukas insisted on bringing Emil with them because he wanted only the best for his brother, who enrolled at a high school here in Iowa City." He took a deep breath. "The only problem was that Lukas was always too busy with work and the like to notice that Emil's mental health was slowly declining."

Arthur gasped and put a hand to his mouth, realizing where it was going. His mind flashed to the Icelandic flag that was stitched over the heart of the stuffed rabbit. "Emil...Is he…" His voice trailed off, not daring to complete his sentence.

"He's gone," the American simply stated. A frown formed on his lips. "Lukas blames himself for failing his brother, almost as if he were wishing it was some kind of atonement for not noticing." He shook his head, grimacing. "If Lukas was saying those things and ends up going home with the way he is at this current moment, there's no telling what will happen."

Lukas's words from early suddenly rang in Arthur's head. " _Everything will be solved and we won't be hurting anymore."_ Just what did he mean by that? From the way Alfred was talking, things were still a gigantic trainwreck at Lukas's home. How could everything be solved so simply if what Alfred said was true?

And then it hit him. Nothing was going to be solved at all. He remembered how Lukas responded when Alfred asked what he meant by that. " _We will be together again."_ That now left Arthur to wonder who Lukas had been referring to. Was Lukas referring to Mathias or Emil? His stomach suddenly felt heavy as lead.

"We need to tell someone," Arthur quickly said. "They need to know that Lukas is in danger if they release him."

Alfred simply shook his head. "It's not our place, Arthur," he quietly replied. "You can't save anyone if they don't want to be saved."

Those words weighed on Arthur like a ton of bricks, even long after he could hear Alfred snoring in the bed beside his. Wasn't there something he could do? Could he go to Mathias about it, or was Mathias already in on whatever Lukas was planning? In the end, was there really no way to save Lukas at all?

.

The next morning, Mathias came to visit Lukas before going in to work, which he found out was there at the university. Mathias was a triage nurse in the ER. It made Arthur sick to wonder if Mathias had been working the night that he was brought in after shooting himself. Arthur internally prayed that that wasn't the case. He would never be able to forgive himself if it were.

Lukas always tended to be more cheerful whenever his husband was around. Compared to the way he was around Mathias, you would never guess that the Norwegian man cried himself to sleep most nights. He seemed nearly ecstatic around Mathias that day, which didn't exactly sit well with Alfred and Arthur, but the two kept up their facade of not seeming suspicious.

After awhile, Lukas and Mathias got up to talk more in Lukas's room. The two seemed excited about something as they left the day room, which made Alfred even more uncomfortable than he already was. It was almost irritating how the Norwegian man's mood changed so quickly. Something was definitely up, and Alfred was determined to find out what it was.

"How did you meet them?" Arthur asked after a few moments of the couple being gone. "You and Mathias seem to know each other pretty well."

Alfred turned his attention to the man next to him and smiled to himself. "He used to be a businessman," he began, "but he had a passion for more than just that. While he was here in America for an internship, he started taking CNA and nursing classes in his spare time. He had a knack for those sorts of things and felt the desire to save lives." He smiled fondly to himself. "I met him while he was interning here at the ER as a triage nurse. Mat is completely different when he's working. He's so diligent and thorough with his work. I keep telling him that he should really try to work on becoming a doctor if he likes helping people that much, but he says that would mean less time with his family."

The Englishman thought about it for a moment. "Mathias seems to have his priorities straight." He sighed, causing Alfred to cock his head to the side in concern. "Yet it seems he really can't prioritize himself."

"What do you mean by that?" Alfred asked. "He seems just fine to me when he comes to visit Lukas."

"There are some pretty dark circles under his eyes," Arthur slowly said. "I think he's pretty upset over Emil as well. I have a feeling that his inability to sleep stems off of more than just Lukas not being there. Think about it, Alfred. If what you said happened to their family really did happen, would you be able to sleep comfortably at night in that same home, knowing that someone who belonged there wasn't there anymore?" He saw Alfred's eyes widen in realization. "Mathias's sleeping problems probably started once Emil was no longer there, and now they're only getting worse because he's all alone in that house."

Alfred's blue eyes panned to the floor. "I didn't even think about that," he quietly said. "Even though he pretends to be his usual self whenever he's here, Mathias is probably suffering just as much as Lukas is." He then gulped and sighed. "Only Lukas is in a safe place, and Mathias isn't."

"I honestly wouldn't be surprised if Mathias was just sleeping somewhere here in the university instead of going home at night," Arthur thought aloud. "It wouldn't be that hard to do. In fact, I used to do it all the time when I was a student here." He frowned. "What kind of life do those two really live?"

The blue-eyed man sighed. "Now _that_ I don't know. Mathias may be cheerful and fun at most times, but he's not too open about his private life. He never has been. For all we know, he could have some pretty dark demons inside of him." He shook his head vigorously. "What am I even saying? If I start thinking things like that, then there is no way I will ever trust a single word he says ever again." Alfred pulled at his hair in frustration. "This is so stupid," he groaned. "There is no way that any of this could ever make sense without thinking in extremes."

"Why don't we just ask Lukas later tonight?" the Englishman suggested. "That could work, couldn't it?"

Alfred sighed. "Those two are way more complicated than they really seem," he explained. "They don't talk about anything that they don't want to, and will go to great lengths to avoid having to do so." He thought for a moment. "I don't think there's any way that we could get either of them to tell us what's going on. This is going to be a lot harder than I thought. I really don't trust the things that Lukas is saying, though. The way he says them makes me wonder if he's up to something dangerous. I really hope Mathias can stop him, if that's the case. I'd hate for anything to happen to them after what they've been through."

Arthur solemnly nodded. "Do you really think they could be in danger?"

"Who knows?" Alfred thought aloud. "Even if they were, there would be no way to tell. All I know is that they're both hurting, and I'd bet anything that it's to the point where they will do anything to make the pain go away." He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. "No, I can't be thinking like that. It's not fair to them."

"Let's believe in them for as long as we can," Arthur said, placing a gentle hand on Alfred's forearm. "They're both adults and grown enough to make their own choices, so let's believe that they'll make the right choices unless if fate says otherwise."

The American sighed and sank lower in his recliner. "Then it's all up to fate," he groaned. "If only fate was something I could even consider putting my faith in." He pulled out his phone and began typing out a message. "I'm going to talk to Amelia about this. She might have some suggestions on something to do. After all, she and Lukas palled around a bit when they first moved here." His message sent and he sighed as he looked up at the ceiling. "Why do I feel so anxious over something that doesn't even concern me?"

"They're your friends," Arthur simply answered. "It's okay to be concerned. You care about them." He squeezed his roommate's arm. "That means you're a good person, Al. I'd honestly be concerned about you if you weren't feeling anxious over something like this," he admitted. "You know what they've been through. You've all been friends for awhile. It's alright to get anxious when you're worried for the safety of the people you care about."

Alfred sighed as he looked down the hallway. "Here comes Yao," he groaned. "I bet he's coming to get you." He looked over at Arthur and smiled. "Thanks for reassuring me over this."

Arthur could feel his heart fluttering in his chest as those beautiful, blue eyes rested on him. "No problem at all, love."

"How are you feeling this morning, Arthur?" Yao asked, walking up to the two men in the recliners. "Do you mind if we check in?"

"Told you he was coming for you," the American laughed. "Have a nice chat!"

.

After checking in on his health and mindset, Yao attempted slight conversation with Arthur. At first they talked about where they both originally came from, and the stress of coming to America in pursuit of education. But soon, that topic faded and they found themselves sitting in silence for a few moments before Arthur dared to break it.

Knowing that he was heavily pushing boundaries, he dared to go through with it by asking, "What does the name Emil mean to you?"

Yao froze in his chair, his comfortable aura shattering like glass before Arthur's eyes. He shifted awkwardly in his chair before stammering out, "W-Why would you be asking a random question like that? Do you know someone by that name, or…?"

"Though it is only a name, it strikes pain into the hearts of people I know," Arthur stated. "You don't seem to be an exception." He observed Yao as the Chinese man seemed to calm down more. "Even though that name is one that shouldn't be spoken aloud around Lukas, why do you react so harshly to it? I saw when he first came in that he was desperate to talk to you. He knew you. You had previously told me that what Lukas had went through affected your own family as well. What was your connection to his brother?"

The doctor gritted his teeth. To Arthur, it was almost as if he could see the thick walls forming around Yao at such a question. "That is my personal business."

A name suddenly floated into Arthur's mind. It was a name that he had heard Alfred and Mathias say when discussing Lukas's condition, a name that struck a chord with Arthur about Yao. "Who is Leon?" he asked.

Yao immediately tensed up and stiffened, a look of borderline rage springing to his face. "That's none of your business," he stiffly stated. "I think you should leave now. You are overstepping boundaries, and I do not appreciate it." Crossing his arms over his chest and glaring toward the door, he gave Arthur a cue to leave.

Surprised at the doctor's reaction, Arthur quickly got up and left, multiple questions for Alfred cluttering his head as he hurried back to the day room. According to Arthur's observations, that Leon person must be someone Yao is close to.

"Alfred," Arthur gasped, entering the day room. He froze. The man in question was not there. Feeling irritated, Arthur practically threw himself into his usual recliner to wait. Considering the fact that Alfred was most likely with his doctor, Arthur groaned and leaned his head back onto the chair.

"Are you sure you're not going to be late because of me?" he heard Lukas ask a few minutes later. "You always seem to be running late these days. Look at you, you still need to get changed before heading to the ER, and you only have fifteen minutes to get there. Why do you do this?"

The obvious smile on Mathias's face could be heard in his voice. "You're worth running late for," he simply replied. "Any moment I spend with you is precious, especially since you aren't at home with me right now." There was a sudden sound of them giving each other a quick kiss before Mathias continued. "If things aren't too busy, I'll be here during my break. I love you."

After seeing his husband off, Lukas sat in the chair next to Arthur's recliner. "Are you doing okay?" he asked the Englishman. "You seem stressed."

Arthur looked up at the Norwegian. He noticed that Lukas had an almost-smile on his face. "You seem to be in better spirits today," he stated after observing his companion for a moment.

"Of course I am," Lukas stated. "They're letting me go home tomorrow." His mouth spread into a smile. "Mathias has been acting strange since I haven't been home. He's lost a lot of sleep since he's alone all the time. I'm relieved that things will be better when I go home."

"How will things be better?" Arthur asked. "Didn't you come from quite the stressful situation?"

Though it wasn't too drastic, Lukas flinched just enough for Arthur to notice that he had struck a nerve in the man. "It will all get better after I go home," Lukas simply stated, as if he were trying to convince himself of that fact as well. "We will be together." A relieved smile formed on his lips. "Everything will be solved."

Arthur wanted to ask what he meant by that, but there was no way that he could. He didn't know Lukas all that well. "Well, I'm glad to know that," was all that he could manage to say.

Lukas nodded, as if to agree with the man next to him and also to convince himself. "So am I." He was quiet for a moment. "Everything will be solved once we're together."

Trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut at those words, Arthur simply nodded and turned his attention toward anything but Lukas. Though he knew it was none of his business, his worry over the situation with Mathias and Lukas felt as if it were eating him alive.

.

After Arthur fell asleep, Alfred found that he couldn't fall asleep too easily. He was too worried about Lukas and his discharge the coming day to sleep. Instead, he wandered out to the day room. There were no nurses within his line of vision in the station, so he sat in the recliners, enjoying the fact that the fluorescent lights weren't on at the time.

"You can't sleep either?" Lukas asked, entering the day room and sitting in the recliner next to Alfred's. He cast a wary glance toward the nurse's station. "I don't see any fish in the aquarium."

Alfred snorted, trying to hold in a burst of laughter. He then turned toward the nurse's station. Now that Lukas mentioned it, it did remind him of an aquarium, considering that there were half-walls and glass surrounding it. "Aquarium," he snickered.

Lukas smiled. "Doesn't it remind you of one?" he asked. "Yet instead of us observing the ones inside, they're observing us." His mouth dropped the smile and turned back into the firm, straight line that it was usually in. "They're always watching. It's unnerving. I can't sleep when they do that." He sighed. "Not that I've gotten any sleep in the past month anyway." His eyes seemed to become distant as he continued to speak. "There's no way I could ever sleep the same again, Alfred. Every time I start to drift off to sleep, I can see him. He's crying and demanding to know how I could've let this all happen." Though his eyes were wide, they were filled to the brim with tears. "Why did this happen, Alfred? Why does he haunt me? Does he really hate me that much, to the point that he will torture me even when he's no longer here? Where did I go wrong? How did I not notice how much pain he was in? What the fuck is wrong with me?"

"Are you okay, Lukas?" the other man asked, casting his friend a worried glance. "You don't sound like yourself right now."

"What do I actually sound like?" the Norwegian man mused aloud. "I'm not the same Lukas you knew. He's dead, Alfred. The Lukas you knew is dead. He died with…"

Though the man didn't finish his sentence, Alfred knew what the last word was going to be. It was a word too painful to remain in his vocabulary. "Will you become a phoenix?" he simply asked. "Though you've burned and lost the old Lukas, will you rise from your ashes?"

Lukas remained detached and distant as he said, "It's too late for that. The ashes have already been scattered. It's too late to save me." He then stood up from the recliner. "You can't save anyone if they don't want it."

With that, Lukas left the day room and went back to his room, leaving Alfred feeling even more worried than he had been at the start of the conversation.


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: So I had to laugh at a specific review left on my last update. It was really snarky and said, "Oh, what a pleasant surprise! This amazing story I read ages ago has gotten a new chapter! Now we just have to wait about a year for the next one..." Not even gonna deny it, I deserved that. I've decided to get better about my updates, though. I'm going to work really hard to not fall off the face of the earth like that again. So, shoutout to MissMinttu for calling me out on my bullshit and inspiring me to get a proper updating schedule again! Please enjoy this chapter!_

.

Four days had gone by since Lukas was discharged, and Alfred was constantly checking social media to check on him. Neither Mathias nor Lukas had even been on their accounts since the night before Lukas's discharge. Due to that, Alfred was constantly searching both of their names on Google, but no results showed up.

"Perhaps no news is good news," Arthur stated after watching Alfred close out of Google for the ninth time that day. He cast his lover a soft smile. "If anything, your anxiety level is increasing the more you search for news on them. You should try to calm down and distract yourself, Alfred. We should just assume that all is well unless we find out otherwise." His mind went to more positive things. "You know, I'm slowly returning to normal," he offered. "They're taking the wiring out of my mouth this afternoon. I'll finally be able to open and close it normally again."

Alfred smirked over at Arthur. "That means you'll be able to open it much wider than before," he teased. To show what he meant by that, he made an obscene gesture with his hand and mouth to symbolize a blowjob.

"Charming," the Englishman replied, rolling his eyes. "Really charming, Alfred." He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in distress.

"At least I distracted myself," the other blond dismissively stated with an indifferent shrug. "Isn't that what you wanted in the first place?"

Arthur groaned dejectedly. "I guess, Alfred." He closed his eyes and leaned back in his recliner, popping the footrest up. He didn't know when the nurses were going to come for him, so he didn't want to be too comfortable. Yet at the same time, stressing over when he would get the wiring taken out was proving to be much more exhausting than he had originally thought.

"So when are you getting your wiring removed?" Alfred asked, shattering any of Arthur's hopes of relaxing while he waited. "Do you think it's going to hurt? I feel like it would."

"I feel shooting yourself in the head and living through it would probably hurt worse," his companion groaned. "Then again, that's only a matter of opinion."

Sensing his roommate's sarcasm, Alfred decided not to bother him any further. Instead, he leaned his head back onto his recliner and pulled up Google on his phone once more.

.

"How do you feel, Arthur?" Dr. Wang asked his patient. He gestured to his jaw to emphasize what he meant. "Do you feel relieved knowing that you can open your mouth wider than before? It will still be a process to transition you back to eating solid foods, considering that you haven't had to chew anything for the better part of a year." The doctor gingerly placed his fingertips on the hinges of Arthur's jaw. "Due to this process, you will have to be here awhile longer. Please bear with us as we work on returning you to normal."

Arthur scoffed. "What even is normal for me anymore?" He blinked in shock. Not having been able to speak properly for months, he was surprised at how different his voice sounded when he could communicate clearly.

"Bet you haven't heard your actual voice in awhile," Dr. Wang said with a chuckle. "Is it that surprising, Arthur?"

"I sound so different when I speak," the blond stated, slowly coming off of his original shock. In his mind, his voice sounded rather sexy in comparison to how he had previously sounded. He wondered what Alfred would think of it. "It honestly is quite shocking."

Dr. Wang grinned, looking much more youthful than he normally did. It made Arthur wonder just how old the man before him really was. "I must admit that you sound much better like this. People will be able to understand you better as well. You can speak clearer with your mouth more open like this. Would you like some speech therapy, or do you think you'll be good?"

Arthur thought for a moment. If he took speech therapy, he feared that he would sound much more American whenever he spoke, and that was something he just couldn't bear to do. "No thank you," he decided. "I believe that I will be fine like this. Besides, Alfred would make a great speech practice partner."

"Do you mean because of his inability to stop speaking?"

"You get it," the Englishman confirmed with a nod. "Glad someone does."

The Chinese man laughed. "Having known Alfred for many years, I completely understand where you are coming from. He certainly is something. That much can be said." His smile was wide and genuine, as if he were speaking with an old friend other than a patient. "I feel that if you speak to Alfred like this, he won't believe that it's you since he is so accustomed to your previous voice."

"Really now?" Arthur laughed, trying to imagine what his roommate's reaction to his new-and-improved voice would be. "I could have fun with this. Maybe I could pull a stunt where I only speak when he's not looking at me or something of the sort." He chuckled to himself. "This all sounds like a good time."

Dr. Wang laughed. "Don't get too carried away and launch him into a crisis," he jokingly warned. "Alfred would be just about beside himself if he couldn't figure out where that voice was coming from."

"He can't be that dense," the blond laughed. Then he took a moment to think about it. "Wait, this _is_ Alfred we're talking about here."

The two then burst out into laughter. Since it was Arthur's first time being able to laugh wholeheartedly in such a long time, he felt an almost floating feeling from it. If it were possible, he felt almost as if his body were releasing endorphins just from laughing. It made him feel incredible, on top of the world. All he wanted to do was laugh.

A thought came to Arthur's mind as soon as he realized how far he could open his mouth. "Dr. Wang, you know how we have music therapy during the week?" he asked.

"I am aware of it," the Asian man confirmed with a nod. "What about it?"

"They tend to use guitars for that," the blond responded. "I know that we can check out books and laptops from the library on the eighth floor, but would it be possible to check out an acoustic guitar from somewhere in the hospital?"

"That is possible," Dr. Wang confirmed. "If it is for therapeutic reasons, you can borrow a guitar from Music Therapy with your doctor's permission." He looked his patient up and down. "Would you happen to be a musician, Arthur?"

"I may or may not have spent my years in American performing in a garage band," Arthur bashfully replied. "And I may or may not have quite a bit of musical talent that I could use for coping. Would a certain doctor allow me to play a guitar during my free time?"

"A certain doctor will see what he can do about that," the other man laughed. "You seem to be in much better spirits now that you don't have your mouth wired. I'm glad to see this. It's definitely an improvement on your psyche."

"I would like to think so as well," the blond agreed with a nod. "It really is an improvement. I'm glad to be almost back to normal."

"You must understand one thing about this," Dr. Wang warned. "Now that you have become physically well, we must start working on the psychological healing while we have you here. I assume you understand what that means."

Arthur swallowed hard. "I think I do." His mind instantly drifted to the events that had brought him to the hospital in the first place. He knew that was what his doctor meant, but he wanted it confirmed by the man so he could mentally prepare himself for his next session.

"Starting tomorrow, we will begin talking about your professor whom you were fond of," his doctor stated. "Now that you have nearly healed from your physical wounds, we need to begin the healing process on your emotional wounds."

"I was afraid you would say that," Arthur sighed. He didn't want to think about Francis if he could help it. If he thought about the other man's kind smile, his words, his touch, the loving way he said Arthur's name, or anything else about that man, he was nearly certain that his smile would crumble once again. Only, if his smile were to disappear altogether, who was to say he would ever get it back.

Arthur's mind then went straight to Alfred. The bespectacled blond never judged him and always said what was on his mind. Alfred was understanding of Arthur's situation and never tried to talk to him about unnecessary topics such as England, past loves, or hopelessness. He felt safe when he was with the American, as if Alfred would shield him from all harm that would ever befall him. Is that what it meant to truly move on and love someone new? If that were the case, then he should talk about Francis to Dr. Wang, just to officially end things in his mind and get the closure that he felt he needed.

"I will talk about him to you," Arthur decisively stated to his doctor. "If it's to finally rid him from my mind and heart, I will gladly do it. I can't move on from that situation if I don't, so tomorrow I will begin taking my small steps toward recovery." He then sighed. "But until tomorrow, could we leave it at this? I need to prepare myself for our conversation."

"Of course," Dr. Wang replied, nodding. "After all, it is hard to talk about loves that would leave one traumatized. Some people I know would know that better than anyone, you being no exception. I suppose we can end our check-in here on that note. We will speak again tomorrow, Arthur. Have a good rest of your day, and I will get that guitar to you as soon as I can."

"Thank you," Arthur replied before heading out of the small room and back to the day room.

Having not seen Alfred since he got the wiring removed, Arthur was almost giddy as he made his way back to where his roommate waited for him. The only thing on his mind at that moment was how to showcase his newly improved voice. Many ideas ran through Arthur's head, but he decided on one as he sat in his recliner. Alfred hadn't looked up from the book he was reading, so it made his idea perfect.

"What are you reading, Alfred?" Arthur asked, trying to get a look at the pages.

Alfred suddenly dropped his book into lap, whipping his head toward Arthur so fast that the Englishman feared he would succumb to whiplash. "Was that you?" he asked, completely baffled by the change in his roommate's voice.

The Englishman grinned, clearly enjoying the surprised look on Alfred's face. "Who else would it have been?" he asked. "Do you know anyone else who sounds like this?"

"Until a few moments ago, I didn't know anyone who _did_ sound like that," the American man replied. His surprise turned to awe. "So this is what you really sound like. It's nice. I could get used to it."

Arthur's cheeks flushed at such a bold and honest statement. He quickly averted his gaze to help him recover from the embarrassment. "That's good to know," he stammered. His gaze focused on a magazine on the table in front of them. That was a safe thing to pretend to inspect while he waited for his face to return to its original color.

"I guess this means you're one step closer to getting out of here, huh?" Alfred asked.

"To be frank, I still have a long way to go before I can leave," the green-eyed blond replied. "There are many more things I have to learn and deal with before I can be discharged. One of those things is to work my way back to eating solid food once more. I haven't exactly chewed anything in nearly a year, so it's only natural that I would have to relearn how to eat."

"That's a good point to make," the other replied, thinking it over in his head. "Either way, I'm glad that you'll be here a little longer. It would get lonely if you just up and left after getting the wiring removed. If that happened, then I wouldn't be able to hear your real voice, you know?"

"And what a shame that would be," Arthur laughed.

"Well, obviously," his roommate replied. "I would never know how you sound when angry, sad, happy, none of that. It would be a true shame."

Those words stopped Arthur's train of thought for a moment. Alfred really thought all of that? If that were the reality of the situation, that had to be one of the most charming things the American had ever told him. His heart felt like it would burst at just the thought of it. Did Alfred really care about him that much? Not even Francis had said something so sweet to him.

"That's surprisingly sweet of you to say," Arthur mumbled, hoping that only Alfred had heard him. "No one has ever said something like that to me. It honestly makes me really happy to hear from someone like you."

"Then prepare to hear it more often," the American replied, grinning at his roommate. "One of these days, I'll experience every single one of your moods, but I doubt that'll be enough for me. Maybe I'll have to experience everything multiple times to get a real feel for it all." He chuckled. "Sounds to me like you're stuck with me for awhile."

"Sounds like it," his roommate replied, smiling to himself. "Lord help me."

Alfred rolled his eyes and chuckled to himself. "Whatever you say, Arthur."

.

About an hour after dinner, Amber approached Arthur, carrying something bulky behind her. "Arthur Kirkland, I believe you requested something of your doctor," she stated, getting her patient's attention. She then presented the acoustic guitar to him. "Dr. Wang told me you would be interested in something like this?"

Arthur's eyes widened in wonder and surprise. His doctor really had come through for him. He took the guitar in his hands, overcome with a tidal wave of emotion. It had been so long since he last touched a musical instrument, and he couldn't believe he was finally able to hold an actual guitar in his hands once more. Having been used to the feel of a musical instrument before his incident, he ran his fingers over the smooth finish on the wood of the guitar, taking in the feel of a guitar once more.

"You play guitar?" Alfred asked, watching Arthur acquaint himself with the musical instrument. "I'm learning so many new things about you today."

"And that's not even half of the things to learn about me," the musician replied, resting the guitar in his lap so he could prepare to play it. "I have been playing the guitar for nearly fifteen years. For the past few years, I have been in an underground band here in Iowa City. Naturally, they cut ties with me a few months back for obvious reasons." He played a couple simple guitar riffs, checking the tuning of the instrument.

Satisfied with the tuning of the guitar, Arthur began to play some simple melodies to warm up. Since it had been so long since he played, he had to re-orientate his fingers to the instrument. He picked up on it as if it were second nature to him and was soon playing better-known songs.

Alfred was rendered speechless as he watched. "I had no idea you would have a talent like this."

"What sort of talent did you assume I possessed?" Arthur asked, chuckling. "Let me guess, you assumed that I was a stuffy man who spent most of his days in a library, reading? That's what most people suspect until they see me on stage."

"Regarding music, what genre do you play?" the American asked, impressed with the new things he was learning about his roommate.

"I mostly play punk, pop punk, classic rock, or rock," his roommate replied. "Think about it, I'm from England. What other genres would I even play?" He smiled as he effortlessly played the guitar solo from _Hotel California_. "I play what music interests me."

"What is one of your favorite songs that you play?" Alfred asked, trying to get to know Arthur's style more. "And do you sing them, too?"

"Of course I sing," Arthur stated, the tone in his voice indicating that he thought it absurd if Alfred didn't think he could. He then thought about the music he played, resting his hands on top of the guitar and drumming them on the wood as he thought. "I know a song that I enjoy doing covers of. Though I only have an acoustic guitar at the moment, it'll have to do." His hands positioned themselves correctly through muscle memory after playing the song many, many times before. Slowly, he began to strum an almost entrancing melody. Before too long, he began to sing.

Alfred was completely enchanted by the other man's voice. He quickly noticed that others around them were as well. They all slowly gathered around Arthur as he sang and played the guitar. If he was being honest with himself, Alfred didn't think that Arthur would be this skilled with his musical abilities. To Alfred, it was suddenly apparent why Arthur was in a band. He wondered if the other members were anywhere near as talented as the man before him. When Arthur played the guitar and sang, it were almost as if he were an entirely different person.

" _You're just a sad song with nothing to say_

 _About a lifelong wait for a hospital stay._

 _When if you think that I'm wrong_

 _This never meant nothing to ya._ "

The American listened intently to the lyrics, soaking them in like a sponge. It made him wonder who originally sang the song. The song itself was bittersweet, yet the lyrics were so enticing along with the music that he couldn't stop listening. He didn't realize that the song was over until he heard the patients and staff who had gathered around them complimenting Arthur.

"What was that song?" Alfred asked, dumbfounded. There were so many things he wanted to know, but that was the first question that popped into his head. He had never heard it before, but he had a feeling that it was a popular song. It made him wonder when it was written and who it was written by. He wanted to listen to the original version and compare the two.

"The song is called _Disenchanted_ ," Arthur causally answered, resting the guitar next to his recliner. "It was written by a band called My Chemical Romance. It's off their album titled _The Black Parade_. The who album is pretty spectacular, but that one song sticks out to me for some reason."

"A lifelong wait for a hospital stay," the American mused. "Those lyrics are pretty deep."

"You're telling me," his roommate sighed. "Maybe that's why the song stuck with me." He thought for a moment. "Who knew I would ever end up in a place like this? It's almost ironic, isn't it?" he mused. "Then again, the world just works in mysterious ways, I suppose."

"You've got that right," Alfred agreed, watching as the people who had gathered around them went back to do their own thing. "I never, in a million years, thought that I would meet someone as amazing and talented as you in a place like this."

"Really now?" Arthur asked, looking to his roommate. "There was a line I once heard in a poem that said, 'I think the genes for being an artist and mentally ill aren't just related, they're the same gene, but try telling that to a bill collector'. The poem was titled _Joey_ by a man named Neil Hilborn. It was a poem about a mentally ill man and how his mental illness affected him throughout his life. It was an interesting performance that I saw on YouTube."

"Interesting," Alfred mused. "So since you are a musical artist, you say there is no doubt at all that you would be mentally ill to go along with it?"

"That is exactly what I'm saying," the Englishman replied, nodding his confirmation. "My family was alway hush-hush about mental illness and things of that sort, but I have always struggled with depression. It very well could have been the constant rain in England during my youth, but it still stuck with me when I came to study here in America." He thought for a moment. "Yet I feel as if my brain thrived on the depression to try to help me create things that were more beautiful, things that I could be proud of. Thus, my music career began."

"That's pretty admirable," his roommate admitted. "Though the world may have seemed dark and cold to you, you tried to pave a better way through your music." He smiled at Arthur. "I guess I learn new things every day."

"And soon, you will learn much, much more," Arthur stated, smiling back. "I am finally starting to feel like myself again. Let's hope that I can keep this up."

"What do you mean by that?" Alfred asked, blinking at Arthur in confusion.

"Because now that I am physically well, the real treatment for me starts."


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: Hey, guys! Sorry about the late update! I joined a show and practices have been killer for me, especially since the kids have been acting up lately at home. Fortunately, they are with their mom for a few days, so I hope I can update faster. I'm also currently sick, which means more time to myself that I can use to write! That said, please enjoy this next installment of Disenchanted, and tell me what you think!_

.

Arthur woke the next morning with a feeling a dread weighing him down to his bed. He had to push himself to get out of his bed, and even then it took a lot of effort to get him out on the scale to be weighed. His mind and heart were dreading the conversation he was to have with Dr. Wang later that day. It was enough to throw his entire morning off.

"You okay over there?" Alfred asked his roommate as he changed into his day clothes. "It seems like you're pained or something. Everything okay?"

"Yeah," his roommate answered, giving a weak nod. "There is just a lot on my mind this morning. I'm not looking forward to seeing the doctor today. He's going to make me start talking about what brought me here in the first place." Arthur cringed. "This is going to be dreadful."

Alfred frowned a bit as he adjusted his glasses, which had gone crooked while he pulled his shirt over his head. "Dude, I'm so sorry. That sounds pretty killer. I mean, we both know that needs to be done, but still…"

Arthur grimaced. "This is all just going to be a bloody pain in the arse," he grumbled. "I was such an idiot. Did I really have to go that far? Why did I shoot myself over something so trivial? My impulsivity is the reason that I'm here. I'm such a fuck-up. No wonder Mum told me not to bother coming home."

There was a thud across the room as Alfred dropped his sneaker in shock. "Wait, your mom said _what_ to you?" he incredulously asked.

"She disowned me after I shot myself," the green-eyed man sighed. "Apparently my attempted suicide brought disgrace to my family. I got a call once I started healing, and she told me not to ever bother coming back to London, because I no longer had family there."

"That's fucked up!" Alfred raged, getting angry for his roommate's sake. "What kind of fucking high horse does your mom ride anyway? Someone needs to knock her off of it! You should never disown your own child for something that they can't help! Mental illness is real, and it's serious. It claims just as many lives as cancer and all of those other 'serious' illnesses." He took a moment to take a few deep breaths to calm down. "You know what, Arthur? If you don't have a family to return to, then just be a part of mine. I'm sure Matt and Mia won't mind. Our mom has always showed love toward our friends. You will be welcomed as one of us."

Arthur's eyes filled with tears as he looked at Alfred. "I couldn't impose like that," he softly replied. "Besides, the loss of my family isn't all that much of a loss. I was never close with any of them anyway." He turned away. "I'll be just fine by myself. I would hate to bring your family any grief on my account."

As much as Alfred wanted to argue about Arthur's point of view, he resolved to stay quiet. After putting a lot of thought into his reply, he finally spoke. "If you ever decide to change your mind on that, you will always be welcome with us."

The Englishman absently nodded to show that he had heard. "Thank you, Alfred. I really do appreciate it." He then went into the bathroom to brush his teeth, ending the conversation with that.

.

Dr. Wang placed a hand on the back of Arthur's recliner. "Good afternoon, Arthur," he greeted. "Shall we go talk now?"

Arthur felt his blood run cold as his heart dropped into his stomach. This was it, the moment he had been dreading. He attempted to gulp down his anxiety as he stood. "I guess," he replied in a shaky voice. His body trembled as he walked alongside Dr. Wang to the small meeting room at the end of the hall. Three medical students occupied a few of the chairs in the room.

Once situated in their seats, Dr. Wang turned to the patient. "Are you ready to begin?" he asked. His dark eyes focused on the Englishman. He took Arthur's silence as a go ahead and slowly began his examination. "Could you please tell us, in your words, what brought you here?"

"You really don't beat around the bush, do you?" the blond groaned. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut. "I was betrayed by someone I loved, and it destroyed me, so…" His voice trailed off for a moment. "I shot myself in the head and somehow lived to tell," Arthur grudgingly finished. He crossed his arms over his chest, fixing a glare on his shoes. "Is there anything else you demand to know?"

A young female student looked up from her small notebook. Her violet eyes seemed to pierce into Arthur's conscience. She grabbed her pen from where it was clipped to her name badge that read " _Sophia Edelstein_ ". "Hello, Arthur, I'm Dr. Edelstein," she gingerly greeted, voice quiet. "Would you mind telling me exactly where you shot yourself? I understand that this is quite personal for you, but from a doctor's standpoint, it's important to know."

The patient's heart sunk in his chest. He slowly made a gun with his fingers and placed it under his chin, pointing upwards. "Is that good enough for you?" he solemnly asked. "They surgically removed the bullet from my sinuses." Arthur sighed. "Or should I rather say that my very own classmates removed the bullet from my sinuses?"

"That must have been horrific for you to discover," Dr. Edelstein sympathized, a deep sadness in her eyes. "You must have been humiliated."

Arthur stared down at the carpeted floor, oblivious to Dr. Wang's scolding of Dr. Edelstein. "I was," he replied. "It was utterly devastating to me. I dropped out of uni once I had fully regained my senses. There is no way I could face my classmates after that. And there isn't a snowball's chance in Hell that I could ever even dare to stand before Fra- _him_ \- again." His voice nearly cut out when he attempted to speak Francis's name aloud. As he thought, just the name of his past lover was too painful to speak. "I really am a failure. I've accepted it. Everything I have ever worked for in life is gone now. There's nothing left for me."

"Is that what you truly believe?" Dr. Wang indifferently asked. "Or could it be that you are led to believe that simply because we are currently discussing a difficult topic?"

That last question made Arthur stop and think for a moment. Was that why he suddenly felt so negative? Was there really no other explanation? If that really were the way his thinking worked, it made him feel quite petty.

Taking Arthur's thoughtful silence as an answer, Dr. Wang continued, "Your silence, to me, means that you know that you really are capable of many things. You just need to find a new way to express your abilities. What do you think are some things you can do to try to move forward from here on out?"

Arthur took a deep breath as he thought. "For starters, I should cut everything from my life that had to do with _him_ , don't you think?" He gazed up at the ceiling as he thought, highly aware of the fact that four pairs of eyes were focused on him. "I could also start looking into making music like I used to. That always lifted my spirits whenever I needed it." A hum escaped his throat as he thought a little more. "I'm sure I could think of more things when not put on the spot."

Dr. Wang chuckled. "You're probably right," he agreed. "I apologize for that, Arthur." He scribbled down some notes on the piece of paper in his hand. "When not thinking of _him_ , how do you feel? I noticed that your mood has increased a lot since you first arrived on the unit."

"My mood varies on most occasions," Arthur decided. "But the thing I find most surprising about it is the intensity of every mood I feel. It's as if I feel everything to the extreme or not at all. I hate it, and it makes me feel as if something is wrong with me. Then again, that's just the way everyone feels about things of that sort, correct?" He smiled to himself. "I'm more than likely overreacting."

"Interesting," Dr. Wang stated, scribbling furiously on his small piece of paper. "Do you mind if I ask you a few questions then?"

"Haven't you already been doing that?"

"Arthur, tell me something," the doctor began, looking up at his patient. "When those you once trusted let you down, how do you react?"

Arthur's thoughts immediately went to his own mother. He swallowed hard, remembering what she had told him about never coming home. "I want nothing to do with them," he slowly said, guilt weighing in on his words. "It's not like they want anything to do with me, so why should I bother?"

Dr. Wang nodded to himself as he wrote. "Arthur, do you often feel as if you should hurt others before they can hurt you?"

The patient blinked in surprise, realizing that the doctor had put his internal feelings into words. "Get out of my head, doc," he sighed. "How is it that you seem to know more about me after a couple months than my own family has known for over twenty-three years?"

"Do you ever get impulsive and do things on a whim that can be harmful to yourself or others?" Dr. Edelstein asked, tapping her chin with her pen.

Arthur pointed to his hospital ID bracelet. "Um, duh," he replied, as if that answer were common knowledge. He watched as every doctor in the posse began to write on their pieces of paper. "What?" he asked. "Are all of you coming to a collective conclusion on my condition or something?"

After a few moments of writing, Dr. Wang looked up from his paper. "It seems to me that you show common symptoms of a mental illness known as Borderline Personality Disorder," he finally stated aloud. "A more proper term for the disorder would be Emotional Intensity Disorder, but it's not like we can change the name of the disorder until after the people who named it have died out." The doctor took a deep breath. "Though it isn't talked about all the time, BPD is quite common, especially in young adults. Although no medication is known to treat it, there are other ways. Might I refer you to a group therapy designed specifically for BPD upon your discharge?"

"Hold on a moment," Arthur insisted, still lost at the diagnosis. "I have _what_ now? A personality disorder? I don't believe I quite follow. Sure, I get depressed on occasion and struggle with my mood at times, but I don't think I have a personality disorder, Dr. Wang."

"It's more of an emotional disorder," the doctor corrected. "You show many of the common symptoms of it."

The blond shook his head. "Don't just randomly diagnose me with something like this just because you're getting paid to do so," he stated. "I'm only here because I tried to kill myself, which I'll even admit was a stupid thing to do. I don't need you trying to get me in some stupid support group or whatever, just because it will get the hospital more money. There is nothing terribly wrong with me, other than the fact that I have to relearn to eat. That's all there is to it. Don't try to diagnose me with something like a personality disorder just because I'm still here after all this time. The moment I'm well again, I'm out of here. I've had quite enough of hospitals and medicines. Since I'm no longer going to be a surgeon, I have no more need for hospitals after this is all through."

"Arthur, what exactly are you talking about?" Dr. Wang asked. "I don't believe I follow."

"I'm not going to allow you to use me to get more money for the psych department here," the Englishman stated, enunciating nearly every syllable. "Do I make myself clear? I refuse to allow you to diagnose me with some disorder I've never heard of just because I have a symptom or two." He rose from his seat. "If you think you can instantly diagnose me with something so ridiculous on a whim, then you don't deserve to be a doctor in the first place." With that, Arthur left the room in a fit of rage.

Dr. Wang looked over at Dr. Edelstein. "That right there is classic Borderline denial. If you were to diagnose someone with this illness in the future, please be prepared for reactions of this nature as well as acceptance."

.

"Who does Dr. Wang think he is anyway?" Arthur fumed, pacing in his and Alfred's room that night. Though the two were supposed to be preparing for bed, the Englishman was too angry to sleep. "What gives him the right to decide what's going on in my head?"

Alfred poked his head out of the attached bathroom. "I think he was just trying to come up with a solution for you," he said around the toothbrush in his mouth. "It's possible that it's a misdiagnosis. Psychiatric science is pretty imperfect, you see. People get misdiagnosed all the time. It's pretty common. I wouldn't dwell on it if I were you."

"I researched this Borderline Personality Disorder and read the symptoms," Arthur continued, as if Alfred hadn't spoken a word. "Apparently fast and passionate relationships is another thing about it. It says relationships are more heated and sexually progress faster with this illness. Can you believe that?"

The other patient took off his glasses and cleaned them with his shirt. "I mean, we really did progress quickly in ours," he said, an indifferent tone in his voice. "What's so bad about having BPD anyway? Amelia has it."

"Why are you suddenly taking Dr. Wang's side of it?" the green-eyed man asked, whirling around to face Alfred. "Do you still harbor feelings for him or something? Disgusting," he spat, crossing his arms over his chest and sitting on the edge of his bed. "Why bother with me when you can just get back together with him?"

"Now you're just being overdramatic," Alfred laughed. He left the bathroom and put a hand on Arthur's head, lovingly ruffling his hair. "I wouldn't go back to Yao, even if someone paid me. Honestly, I think you should go to sleep and think about this stuff tomorrow. Maybe you should talk it over with your nurse as well. It's not like there's anything you can do about it at this moment anyway." His strong arms pushed Arthur down onto his bed and covered him with his blanket. "Just get some rest and sort it all our tomorrow."

"Easy for you to say," Arthur grumbled. "You're just here for health reasons more than anything."

"Yup, sure sure," his roommate replied, letting Arthur's insulting words fall on deaf ears. He knew the other man didn't really mean them. "I'm just here because I need to learn to eat properly." His mouth formed into a smile as he kissed Arthur's forehead. "Pretty pathetic of me, huh?"

It was at that moment when Arthur realized how hurtful his previous comment really was. His cheeks flushed a bright red as he pulled his blanket up over his face. "I'm sorry, Alfred," he quietly said. "My comment was uncalled for."

"It's fine," the other patient insisted. "It'll take a lot more than just that to get me down." He forced a smile. "I know you didn't mean it anyway. I'm used to people saying things like that." Alfred turned off the overhead light, leaving the two in mostly darkness, except for the small light over his bed. "If I let everything people said to me get to me, I'd live a pretty sad life, don't you think so?"

"I suppose so," Arthur agreed, laying back on his bed and getting comfortable. "Though I still need to apologize when I'm in the wrong. It's only right that I do so." He stared up at the ceiling. "Al, do you think Dr. Wang is correct in his diagnosis of me?" he slowly asked after thinking for a moment.

"It's hard to say," his roommate responded, preparing his bed. "Every case of mental illness is different. Say two people were diagnosed with depression at the same time. Do you believe that they would feel the same and be triggered by identical things?"

"Not at all," the Englishman replied, shaking his head, gaze still fixed on the ceiling. For him, it was easier to talk about these things if he didn't have to look at his conversational partner.

"There are many different types of each illness," Alfred continued. "Some come along accompanied by other illnesses, whereas some appear all on their own. Some are trauma induced, and some are genetic. They're all unique to the mind of their victim, Arthur. Even if you do turn out to have BPD, it's not like I'll see you as anything but Arthur Kirkland. You can't let a diagnosis make or break you. After all, you're the same person you were before a label was slapped on your feelings, right?"

Arthur felt calmed by Alfred's kind words. "I suppose you are right about that," he decided. "I'm still Arthur, even if I have a mental illness. It's not like anything about that has changed. There is just a name for what I have been feeling is all."

"Exactly." The blue-eyed man laid back on his bed and reached for the lightswitch above his headboard. "You're still Arthur, and nothing will ever change that. Don't let something like a diagnosis get you too down. No matter what, you're still you. The diagnosis just means that they can figure out how to help you easier." He yawned and turned off the light, plunging the room into darkness. "Try not to consider it a label of consequence, but more as a path toward feeling better."

Even after Alfred fell asleep, Arthur thought about what he had said. It was true that nothing had changed about Arthur, but getting a diagnosis of that caliber worried him. If people outside of the hospital ever found out about the diagnosis, how would they view him? What would Jiri and Alena think?

His mind then ventured into a dark area that he had tried to suppress the entire time he had been inpatient. What would Francis say if he found out about this new diagnosis? Would he laugh at him, scoff in his direction, say horrible things about him? Arthur felt his mind going haywire over all of the possibilities.

In his life, he had never felt such a strong stigma. Was this how the patients here felt every day of their lives? He felt as if his heart were being tightly squeezed by some unknown force. Did everyone with a mental illness live in fear of the judgement of others, or was it just him? His thoughts made him feel more alone that he had ever felt in his life as an emptiness crept its way into his being. What was going on with him? Was this normal? What even was "normal" anyway? Never in his life had he ever felt so empty and useless.

Trying to follow Alfred's advice, he curled tightly into a ball and squeezed his eyes shut. All he needed to do was sleep and think about everything tomorrow. He forced his body into a fitful slumber, from which he didn't wake up feeling rested at all.

Deep inside, he was terrified that this sort of thing would become his life from then on out.

.

"You need to eat," a male tech stated to Arthur. "Everyone else on the program is waiting on you. I can't let you waste their time like this."

Arthur looked up from the spoon that he had previously been using to stir his yogurt around for the past ten minutes. "What was that?" he asked, a dazed look in his eyes. "Did you say something?"

Alfred sighed from across the table. "Do you mind eating your yogurt instead of playing with it?" he asked for the tech. "We kinda have a busy schedule that we need to follow every day, you know? It would help if you could just eat so we can all go about our lives, Arthur."

"You have a point," Arthur grumbled to himself before shoving a spoonful into his mouth. He then hurriedly ate the rest of it in no time, though his mind remained elsewhere.

For the remainder of the morning, Arthur seemed in a daze, though he couldn't figure out if it was because he was still in shock over his diagnosis or because he didn't sleep well the night before. Whatever it was, it had Arthur acting strangely, and Alfred didn't seem too happy about it.

"Arthur, are you ready to come speak with us again today?" Dr. Edelstein asked, placing a hand on his recliner.

"Where is Dr. Wang?" the Englishman asked, looking up at her. "Is he here today? I have some things I wish to speak with him about."

"He's here," she answered. "I was the one who was sent to fetch you. He has a few more notes to write down on the previous patient, so I came for you instead. Does that bother you?"

"Not at all," he indifferently replied. Arthur stood from his recliner and began walking down the hallway toward the small TV room with Dr. Edelstein. "I guess a change or two is nice on occasion, though I'm honestly not too fond of change."

"I understand," the doctor replied. "I will be sure to keep that in mind in the future." She opened the door to the small TV room and gestured inside. "Here we are, Arthur. Have a seat, and we will begin with today's check in."


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: Hey all! I hope you're well! I've been pretty sick lately, so I've been a bit out of it. I'm slowly starting to feel better now, though. Also, the kids are slowly transitioning back to their mom's care, so my time is freeing up again. Please enjoy this chapter, and don't forget to review if you enjoy it!_

.

Dr. Wang looked up from his clipboard, fixing his eyes on his patient. "How are you doing today?" he asked. "Has your mood improved at all since yesterday?" His eyes studied his patient for even the slightest of reactions. After all, he wanted to be sure about his diagnosis.

"I talked it all over with Alfred last night," Arthur began. "If that does appear to be my diagnosis, then I feel I can accept it." He then cast Dr. Wang a confused look. "But why didn't you come to get me today? Dr. Edelstein coming for me threw me off a bit."

"I apologize for that," Dr. Wang said. "What about her coming to get you threw you off?"

"It was different from normal," the patient stated, thinking aloud. "I guess I'm more used to talking to you first, Dr. Wang. When Dr. Edelstein came to get me, I seemed to panic a little and automatically assumed that you weren't here today. It worried me for some reason." He thought for a moment. "Did you do that on purpose?"

"I did," the Chinese man casually admitted. "I wanted to see how you would react to a slight change in your daily activities. You've been on such a strict schedule that I knew throwing it off, even just a little, would cause a reaction from you. But I needed to see what sort of reaction to add a base to my diagnosis of you."

Arthur could feel his cheeks burning with irritation. "I'm not just some guinea pig, you know," he grumbled. "Could you at least warn me before performing one of your strange mind tests on me?"

"But that would ruin the element of surprise." Dr. Wang smiled and cutely cocked his head to the side. "Besides, genuine reactions are what I'm looking for. If I were to tell you in advance, your reaction wouldn't be genuine, now would it?" He smiled widely. "Now, let's begin with our daily check in."

.

"I'm going to punch him one of these days," Arthur fumed during stretching exercises in the hospital gymnasium. He reached his fingertips to his toes, frowning in frustration. "He's just so aggravating, thinking he can toy around with my head like that."

"Well, I mean, I could've told you that," Alfred stated, grabbing his toes with ease. "I've known him for years, and we were together for a year and a half at one point. He's really something else. I swear, that guy knows just what to do to get on people's nerves. No wonder he became a fucking psychiatrist, you know?" He chuckled to himself. "I mean, look at this. He's got you really worked up by telling you he's doing things to mess up your day. Though they're not extreme things, he's still trying to make you uncomfortable and test your limits."

"Whatever," Arthur huffed, sitting up straight. "It's bullshit. He thinks he can throw his weight around just because he's a doctor here." He crossed his arms over his chest, sulking. "People like that disgust me. They're sadistic bastards, if you ask me."

"Wow, you're a lot angrier about this than I had originally thought," his roommate mused, propping himself up on his hands and leaning back. "It's really nothing to be too worried about. He's just testing your reactions to be sure of his diagnosis. I wouldn't be too upset about it, especially considering it happens to everyone with mental illness. At least Yao isn't cruel about it like some can be." Alfred shrugged. "Then again, everything regarding BPD is mostly a matter of perspective. Take Amelia, for example. I could say something completely harmless, and her brain could easily receive it as an attack. They call it filters. The filter on your brain works differently from the filter on mine. Where I wouldn't take offense to certain things, you might, and vice versa. It's confusing if you don't have the basis, you know?" He grinned over at Arthur. "But that's what makes everyone an individual, right? I'd hate to be just like someone else."

"When you put it like that, it makes the situation more bearable," the Englishman sighed. He relaxed his arms as the loosely fell into his lap. "I still don't like it, though."

"No one said you had to," Alfred cheerfully replied. "I'm glad you're able to bear it. Some people can't, and they act out in violence. At least you have a cool head over all of it." He grinned at his roommate. "Hats off to you, Arthur!"

Arthur scowled at his feet as he stretched toward them once more. "I still don't like it," he grumbled, causing his companion to laugh even harder, much to his dismay.

.

That night, as the two prepared for bed in their room, Arthur felt restless. He still couldn't fathom the fact that Dr. Wang was directly testing him. And since he didn't warn him in advance, Arthur had no idea what sorts of tricks he had up his sleeve, or how long he planned on doing those sorts of things. It was maddening to try to think of what would happen the next day.

"Still thinking about the stuff with Yao?" Alfred asked, walking out of the bathroom. He was clad in a t-shirt and basketball shorts, hair still a bit damp from his shower. The American rubbed at his damp hair with his towel in an attempt to dry it. "I'll be right back, and then we can talk about it." He quickly left the room, carrying his three towels that he used to shower.

Arthur sighed and sat at the chair in front of his small desk space that was built into the wall. He glared at his patient telephone that sat at it, frowning. Though he had his cell phone, no one had ever called his patient phone to talk to him. If he was honest with himself, he was jealous of how Amelia would call Alfred's from upstairs whenever she was bored and didn't want to use minutes on her phone. He wished there was someone like that for him. Although he knew Amelia would call him as well if he were to ask, there was no way he could bring himself to. The thought of asking her for a favor like that was too embarrassing for him.

"And I am back," Alfred stated, walking back into the room. He walked over to the chair at his desk space and turned its back to Arthur, straddling it as he sat. "What are you thinking about? Also, why are you glaring at your phone. It's not like it did anything to you." His smile startled his roommate when he finally looked up. "Did I scare you or something? You look surprised about something."

"It's just that I didn't expect you to be smiling at me like that," the Englishman shyly admitted, focusing his gaze on the floor so he didn't have to see his roommate's expression over his blushing face. It was already embarrassing enough for him. "I guess you could say it shocked me a bit."

"I understand how attractive I am, but you should get ahold of yourself," the bespectacled man teased.

"Whatever!" Arthur indignantly exclaimed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I suppose I wasn't prepared for it is all. After all, it's been a few days since the last time you've even kissed me."

Alfred cocked his head to the side, a look of genuine surprise in his blue eyes. "Has it really been that long?" he asked in shock. "Well damn. I should do something about that, shouldn't I?"

"Please wait until after the next room check, just so we're sure not to get found out," Arthur stated. "I would hate for them to walk in and find out. If that were to happen, we would probably be put in single rooms and only get to see each other in common areas. That would be awful, so I don't want to chance it."

"You make a valid point," his roommate agreed. "Okay, well when I finally get to kiss you, it'll knock you off of your feet."

"Good thing I'm already sitting down," Arthur dryly replied.

Alfred laughed heartily. "You make a fine point," he said. "I'll just have to get you to stand up first." He thought for a moment. "Then again, now you know my plan so it won't be so easy." His straight face was soon replaced with a smile. "Looks like I'll have to try my hardest, huh? After all, it won't be any good if you don't have to sit and rest afterwards, right?" He let out a joyful laugh. "This will be fun!"

Amber poked her head into the room. "Are you two doing alright?" she asked. An amused smile played on her lips. "What's got you so excited, Al?"

"My brother texted me and said he might come see me tomorrow!" he cheerfully lied. "It's been about a week since the last time I saw him, so I'm pumped! I doubt I'll sleep much tonight!"

"Even if you can't sleep well, don't keep Arthur up with you," the nurse warned. She then turned her attention to the Englishman. "How do you like being able to actually open your mouth these days? Is it as invigorating as you thought it would be when you first got here?"

"That and so much more," Arthur replied with a casual smile. "In a couple days, I get to start eating soft foods." He let out a refreshed sigh. "Oh, how I've missed actually eating. You forget to enjoy little things like that until they're no longer there for you to enjoy."

"I can agree with that," Amber said, smiling. "Anyway, you two should get to bed soon. You know how early you have to be up. Also, Arthur, don't let Al keep you up all night. He really is just a giant kid." She giggled and began to close the door. "Goodnight, you two!"

Moments after they bid her a goodnight and the door was shut, Alfred pounced. He circled his arms around Arthur's waist, pulling him up from his chair. His lips crashed against his roommate's, causing the Englishman to gasp out in surprise from the intensity. But the American was nowhere near done. He wanted to remember this kiss and also to remind himself to be sure to kiss Arthur like that at least once a day.

Arthur took a moment to catch his breath between kisses, face flushed like it had never been before. "Alfred, you…" He couldn't even think clearly at the time. His head was spinning as he felt more and more dizzy as the seconds passed.

With one swift movement, Alfred had his roommate sitting on his bed. "I told you I'd knock you off your feet," he said with a grin. "You know, I haven't gotten a chance to kiss you like that yet, not even after you got the wiring taken out." He chuckled to himself. "But I'll be damned if I never kiss you like that again." His cheeks were flushed a bright red as he placed a hand on his roommate's thigh. "Then again, do you mind being kissed like that?"

"I would be insulted if you never kissed me in that manner again," the Englishman quickly stated, too embarrassed to meet his roommate's eye. "Which goes to say that I enjoyed it and wouldn't mind being kissed like that more often." His cheeks were so hot that he felt his face was melting off. He felt his thoughts straying to his previous lover and couldn't help but compare this feeling.

Francis had never made him blush like this. His heart was pounding madly in his chest, but in a way that only Alfred could make it. He had never experienced such passion when with Francis, and it let him to believe that everything between him and his professor had been a lie. Just the thought of that turned his stomach to lead. If it had been a lie, then why was he still feeling remorseful over it all?

Alfred kissed Arthur once more, knocking those horrible thoughts right out of the Englishman's head. Arthur was grateful to have all thoughts of his past lover removed from his mind and decided to focus solely on his roommate and how his lips made him feel. So many thoughts filled his head; thoughts of Alfred, the taste of his lips, the feel of his hands gripping him tightly. Never had Arthur felt so intoxicated just from a kiss. It was unreal to him.

When they pulled away for air once more, even Alfred gasped out and worked to catch his breath. The bodies of the two men had become heated, so Alfred went to sit on his own bed to cool down. That, and room checks were coming around again. It was best that they played it safe until after room checks. After all, if they were caught, not only would they be put in single rooms, but the unit manager would have a fit. Alfred didn't even want to try to imagine what the nurses would do.

To make it seem like they were going to bed, Alfred shut off the lights in the room, but he left the blinds on the window open to let in the light from outside. He smiled to himself as he laid down on his bed and threw his blanket over himself. After being admitted to places like this ever since he was a child, Alfred was a pro at pretending to sleep when the nurses came for room checks. He was such a pro that he sometimes tended to fall asleep while pretending to be asleep.

Much to Arthur's dismay, his roommate's pretending to be asleep became all too real. He sat up and smiled at the sleeping man across from him. His smile turned to quiet giggles when he realized that Alfred had fallen asleep with his glasses on. Once the check was done, he wandered over to his bed and sat on the edge of it. His gentle hands slipped his roommate's glasses off and nearly placed them on his nightstand.

"What am I going to do with you, Al?" he softly asked, combing his fingers through the other's bangs. "I suppose I can forgive you, but just this once." He leaned down and kissed Alfred's forehead, a smile playing on his lips. "There's no way I could possibly even think to wake you when you look so peaceful. Sweet dreams, then."

Arthur stood up and moved to his own bed, head in the clouds. He had always been the one to fall asleep first, and the later to rise. Seeing Alfred's sleeping face made him happy. His roommate looked so pure and innocent, almost angelic. It was all he could think about before sleep took him over as well.

.

A couple days later, Arthur seemed to become more and more stressed out. Alfred figured that it was because Dr. Wang had told him he was going to change things up randomly but hadn't so far. It was certain that's what was making the Englishman so anxious, expecting his doctor to do something when the doctor doesn't. That was enough to put anyone on edge.

Arthur paced back and forth between the beds in their room one morning, mumbling to himself and trying to figure out what kind of things Dr. Wang had in store for that day. In a frenzy, he grabbed Alfred, panicking. "I can't take it anymore," he spazzed, trying his best not to shake his already startled roommate. "What does that man have up his sleeve? He's driving me mad! I'm going absolutely insane! It's unbearable!"

"Um, Arthur, would you mind letting go of me?" he sheepishly asked. "I don't believe I've done anything to piss you off yet today. After all, the day is only just beginning." He grinned mockingly. "I mean, I'm sure I'll think of something, but for now do you mind letting go of my shirt? You might stretch it out at this rate."

"Sorry," the Englishman mumbled, releasing his roommate. "I just can't take it anymore. That doctor is toying with me, and it's getting on my last nerve!"

"Is it now?" Dr. Wang asked from the doorway. He smiled warmly when Arthur turned to face him. "Good morning, Arthur. I believe it's time for us to have our daily chat, don't you think?" His eyes steeled before he turned toward the hallway. "Let's get going."

Arthur cast Alfred a panicked look before following after. His heart felt heavy as lead and sunk down into his stomach. He could hardly walk, feeling his body grow heavier and heavier with every step. How long had Dr. Wang been standing there? Did he see him grab Alfred? That would be bad if he had seen it.

"So how is your morning going?" Dr. Wang asked once they were situated in the small TV room. "I can see that you're on edge. I'm pretty sure Alred saw that as well." He chuckled as Arthur blushed and looked away. "You should work a little more on that temper of yours. I get that things are difficult, but taking it out on others is no good."

"Sure thing," the patient grumbled back. He glared down at the floor. "You do realize that this isn't all completely my fault, right? You're the one putting me on edge by saying nonsense things and threatening to change up my way of life. So yes, I can't help but be anxious and on edge. It sucks that I have to anticipate stuff that will throw me off. I'm being driven mad by the anticipation of something that may or may not happen. Would you like someone to fuck with _your_ head like that?" Arthur waited a couple moments for the doctor to respond, which he didn't. "I didn't think so, Dr. Wang."

Dr. Edelstein cleared her throat to keep herself from dropping her jaw at the patient's bold words. She had never seen a patient verbally attack her senior doctor like that. Her shock ultimately came from the silence that Dr. Wang held. Initially, she figured that Dr. Wang would respond with something witty or logical, but his silence surprised her. It made her wonder why he didn't say anything.

Finally, the doctor spoke. "Arthur, I know just as well as you how dreadful anxiety can be. You sit there all day, every day, anticipating the worst, whether it will happen or not. The worry begins to consume you and make you think the worst of even those close to you. But that is when you have to combat that mental state with what you know is true. You have to…." His voice trailed off as his pager beeped. He took a glance at it and paled, shakily whispering something to himself before standing up. "I-If you'll excuse me, I-I-I have somewhere I need to be. Dr. Edelstein, please finish up the check-in for me." With that, he rushed from the room.

Arthur sat there for a moment, confused. What had just happened? He turned to Dr. Edelstein. "Did I offend him?" he asked, hoping that he didn't. "I didn't mean to be so harsh with him."

Dr. Edelstein shook her head, sighing. "I don't believe that's the case. Either way, whatever he rushed off to do was none of our concern. It was probably something going on in the ER. Those kinds of things happen on occasion." She shrugged indifferently. "We shouldn't let it affect us, right?"

"I suppose so," the patient agreed with a sigh. He had never seen a doctor look more panicked in his life, especially a psych doctor. Shouldn't psych doctors be used to emergencies? He couldn't help but notice how surprised Dr. Wang had looked after glancing at his pager. "Do you think you could talk to the doctor about not skyrocketing my anxiety anymore? I don't know how much more I can take of it."

"I'll see what I can do," she replied with a giggle.

.

Arthur plicked at the strings of the guitar he had borrowed from the music therapy department. He was glad that he had an outlet to vent his emotions with. If he hadn't gotten the guitar, he was certain he would've gone insane those past few days. He felt fortunate that he could vent his feelings through music. No matter what type of mood he was in, the music always sounded so lovely, bringing beauty to his melancholy.

He hummed to himself as he strummed away on the instrument, realizing what song he was playing. His voice rang out in his bedroom as he sang along to it. Arthur could feel his spirits lifting with every note.

" _You're just a sad song with nothing to say_

 _About a lifelong wait for a hospital stay._

 _When if you think that I'm wrong,_

 _This never meant nothing to you._ "

Though the song in itself was a bit depressing, it improved his mood better than anything else could have at that time. He could feel his passion for music, which he had once thought he lost, flowing back into him. Everything else would fade one day, but music was forever. That was what he had believed since his high school days. What had made him lose sight of something so beautiful?

Then he realized it. How could he have been so stupid? He gave up music to have more time with Francis. How could he have betrayed his passion in life for something that didn't last? Had he realized when their affair had begun that there was no way it could ever last? After all, Francis was married. He had been married the whole time. Why did Arthur betray the one thing that understood him when no one else did for something so worthless? When everyone else turned away, the music and lyrics would envelope him and remind him that everything was going to be okay. Why would he betray what had always been there for such a temporary thing? Was he really that stupid? There was no excuse for him.

Arthur ran his hands over the glossy finish of the acoustic guitar in his lap. The smoothness of the wood beneath his fingertips soothed him, taking his mind back to happier days. He thought of the band he was once in and wondered how everyone else in it was doing. His hands balled into fists as he realized there was no way he could ever rejoin it. After the falling out he had with the other members, he had no choice but to leave it as it was.

"Thank you," he whispered to the guitar. "I think I've finally discovered what I love once more. Nothing will ever get in the way again."

Suddenly, Alfred burst through the door followed by his brother and a man with snowy, white hair and red-tinted eyes. Until this moment, Arthur had never met a person with Albinism, but the man was too beautiful to look away from.

"Good afternoon, Arthur," Matthew greeted, smiling. "I hope you're doing well." He pointed to the guitar on the Englishman's lap. "I didn't know you played. Are you any good?"

Arthur blushed as Matthew sat on Alfred's bed next to him. "I play a little," he shyly said.

"Don't let him fool you," Alfred laughed. "Arthur's actually pretty amazing at guitar." He cast a smug glance toward the albino man. "He's ten times better than Gil, even when he's having an off-day."

"Don't just say random shit like that," the white-haired man interjected. "I'm sensitive, you know?" He crossed his arms over his chest in a sulk and then glanced to Arthur. "So you play guitar, huh? You think you're pretty great? Well you should know that I am awesome at guitar, and you are no match for my skills."

Matthew sighed and gave Arthur an apologetic look. "I'm sorry about him," he quietly said, his discomfort showing. "Arthur, this is my fiance, Gilbert. He's in a band and has been in a foul mood since they lost their lead guitarist last week. Please excuse him."

"You need a guitarist for your band?" the Englishman asked Gilbert, eyes widening in surprise. "I haven't exactly played much until recently, but I could probably help you out until you find a replacement."

Gilbert eyed the other musician suspiciously. "You're saying you want to be in my band?"

"Precisely."


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: Wow! This took much longer than expected, and I apologize for that! I was in a show recently, and then I started working childcare. There has been so much going on in my life that I find it hard to even find time to breathe! But things are starting to calm down and I'll be on vacation soon, which means plenty of time to write! Anyway, please enjoy this new chapter!_

.

By the time Arthur had finished showing off his guitar skill, even Gilbert, who was never quiet according to Alfred and Matthew, was speechless. Matthew sat in an awed silence while his brother smiled smugly beside him. Upon Gilbert's request, Arthur had played any guitar riff mentioned, almost as if he had looked into the future and prepared and practiced each song in advance. Once Gilbert ran out of complicated riffs, he just sat back, looking stunned.

"Are you done making an ass of yourself?" Matthew asked, turning to his fiance. "Or would you like to continue?"

Gilbert looked as if he were desperately trying to swat away the other man's words. "Just….Just give me a minute, will ya?" He took a moment to gather his thoughts. "You're not currently in a band?" he finally asked Arthur. "What are you, a solo act? I mean, my band is awesome, but your guitar playing is mega awesome! What if you made the rest of us sound bad compared to you?"

Alfred gasped in shock. "Who are you, and what have you done with the real Gilbert?"

"Gilbert Beilschmidt would _never_ openly admit to someone being better than him at _anything_!" Matthew added, his amount of shock equal to his brother's. "What have you done to my Gilbert? How dare you deceive me like this!"

"Oh, shut up," the albino grumbled, blushing with embarrassment. "You two always find the dumbest things to sync up about. Are you sure the two of you aren't the twins?"

Matthew nudged Alfred in the ribs. "What do you think Mia would do if she heard him say that?"

"Instant castration," his brother answered, not missing a beat.

Gilbert anxiously crossed his legs. "Please, no. I'd like more kids one day."

His fiance smiled deviantly. "What's wrong with using my genetics?" he asked, innocent tone a far contrast from his facial expression. "I mean, you already have Leo, so…."

"And he's an awesome kid, isn't he? I need more." The snowy-haired man grinned. "Calm down, Matt. I get what you're saying. Mini-Matt's wouldn't be too bad to have around either."

Arthur awkwardly cleared his throat as he shifted his weight in his seat. "So, uh, back to the original discussion," he began, "I'm not sure when I will be discharged from here, but I'll play for your band sometime."

Gilbert's red-tinted eyes lit up. "You will?" he excitedly asked. He began to swat at Matthew, even after gaining his attention. "Matt! Matt, Matt, Matt! You know how we borrow Alfred sometimes? Can we borrow Arthur, too?!"

Matthew blinked in surprise for a moment before finally realizing what the other had asked him. He thought for a moment, gears slowly turning in his head, connecting all of the information that had just flown into his brain. "Wait, can we?" he finally thought aloud. "Maybe I could sign the outing slip for Alfred, and you could for Arthur? Wait…." He thought again for a moment. "Can we do that?"

Alfred chuckled at his brother's mental conflict. "If Arthur is on Level 3, he can go. Although, I think the longest we can be out is roughly three hours." He then turned to the man in question. "How about it, Arthur? You can ask Yao to bump you up to Level 3 tomorrow, and we can get out of here for a few hours sometime. What do you think?"

"Wait, we can do that?" the green-eyed man asked, blinking in surprise at the succession of the conversation. "That's really allowed here? Since when? And how?" His head was spinning, but he tried to calm himself down. "It sounds like something that could greatly benefit all of us," he stated once composed.

Matthew snorted, trying to hide his laughter. "Why are you putting on an act like that?" he asked, laughter escaping his lips with each word. "It's okay to be excited about things, you know." He held his sides as he laughed. "Besides, it's fun to see you excited about something for once."

"Yeah!" Alfred agreed, nodding next to his brother. "Seeing you excited is such a rare sight. You should let us enjoy it a bit more."

Arthur blushed a bit from being called out in such a manner by both brothers. He didn't really know what to say after something like that. "It's not like I'm excited specifically for your enjoyment," he spat out, sulking.

Gilbert exchanged a knowing look with his fiance. "He reminds me of you," he stated. He then turned his attention toward Arthur and Alfred. "Matt always used to get so touchy whenever I called him out for the adorable things he did."

The Englishman blinked in surprise for a moment. He had never expected a word like "adorable" to escape the lips of such a eccentric man. Taking a moment to collect his bearings, he looked to Alfred. His heart fluttered a little when his roommate turned to grin at him.

"You're impossible, Gil," Matthew flatly stated, crossing his arms and looking away from the snowy-haired man for a moment. His defiance didn't last for long, though. He blushed and looked back to his fiance, smiling shyly.

"Get a room," Alfred groaned, nudging his brother in the ribs with his elbow. He looked to Arthur. "These two, can you believe them? They claim that they come to see me, but instead they just come to practice flirting in public. I swear to God."

The younger brother elbowed his sibling back. "Shut up, Al," he groaned. "It's just that we never see each other during the day because one of us is always working in the afternoons. Just be glad we even came to see your petty ass. We could have just stayed at home, you know."

"If y'all keep eye-fucking each other, then I would almost have preferred that."

Having no retort to his brother calling him out in such a manner, Matthew quickly closed his mouth and averted his eyes, face turning a deep shade of red. His facial expression told his companions that he would literally rather be anywhere but there. He tightly clasped his hands in his lap as Gilbert laughed with Alfred over his actions. It almost made Arthur pity him.

"Are you okay, Matthew?" the Englishman asked, cocking his head to the side with concern.

"He's just embarrassed that he was called out in front of people," Gilbert nonchalantly stated. "Matt's actually pretty shy, unlike his loudmouthed brother here."

"That's the pot calling the kettle black right there!" Alfred laughed. "Me? A loudmoth? Compared to you, Gil? I don't think that sounds right! You're _way_ more loudmouthed than I am!"

"Details, details," the albino scoffed back. He then leaned toward the Englishman and winked. "Arthur, do you think I'm the louder one?"

"You're full of shit, Gil!" the other patient exclaimed. "Arthur is _my_ friend, not yours; he'd never agree with you!"

Arthur shifted uncomfortably in his spot, feeling the pressure of being put on the spot by two men who would hold his answer against him if it wasn't favorable. His mind was in a frenzy, trying hard to think of the easiest way to answer without upsetting anyone. Having just met Gilbert, he had no idea how to respond, but he knew Alfred had the potential of being offended if he was told that he was the louder one. What a double-edged sword.

"Oh, come on," Matthew groaned. "Don't put Arthur on the spot like that, you two. I mean, he just met you today, Gilbert. Of course he wouldn't know that you're the bigger loudmouth of the two of you within the first hour of knowing you."

"Give it time," his fiance replied with a smirk. "I was just testing him on his opinion. If he would've said that Al was, I just might've pissed myself, laughing!"

The Englishman sighed heavily and looked down at the floor. He was both relieved and annoyed, but at least he didn't have to answer that question. That was enough to keep him in a good mood. But all he could think was that this was only beginning of a long visit with Matthew and Gilbert.

.

 _Two Weeks Later_

Arthur stepped out of the hospital doors and took a deep breath of the outdoor air. It felt so invigorating! Matthew and Gilbert had succeeded in taking him and Alfred out on a pass together with them, and he couldn't be any more excited. Hopefully he would be able to even get in some alone time with Alfred. Maybe they could even get in some time to do things that they couldn't do in the hospital.

The whole way to the car, Arthur took a look around the hospital grounds while Alfred spoke to Matthew and Gilbert in hushed tones. He hadn't seen Kinnick Stadium in person in nearly a year. It was a sight he never imagined that he would find refreshing to see.

Yet while he was looking around, his eye caught the one thing he didn't expect to see. As much as he tried to look away, he couldn't tear his gaze from Francis sitting on a bench and laughing with none other than Alena. It was enough to stop him dead in his tracks as he stared longingly at the two, who didn't even notice him.

"You'd be better off not thinking about that," Alfred said, walking up behind him. He reached down and grabbed the Englishman's hand, lacing their fingers together. "Let's go, Arthur. I don't want to see you hurt your own feelings over someone no longer worth your time." Surprised that Arthur followed along once he started leading him away, Alfred sighed to himself. "You know, you deserve someone who will truly treasure you and put you first. You're not a back-up plan, and you never will be. Don't settle for being one, okay?"

It was at that moment Arthur felt his own tears on his face. How humiliating to be caught crying over Francis, and by Alfred! He squeezed his eyes shut with self-hatred for a moment. Why did this have to happen? He needed to focus on the man holding his hand.

Arthur squeezed Alfred's hand. "I'm sorry, Al," he quietly said. "I'll be sure to focus on you, and you alone, for the rest of the day. Nothing else will distract me. Not even for a moment."

"While I appreciate the sentiment, please don't feel like you're not allowed to think about anything else," the bespectacled man replied, giving his roommate's hand a quick squeeze in return. "Also, I've talked it over with Matt and Gil. They're going to drop us at my apartment for about an hour while they pick Leo up from school and take him home. Then they'll be back for us. Are you okay with that?"

The Englishman blinked in surprise. "They'll really do that? That's so nice of them!" He blushed as he imagined the sorts of things they would do once they were alone. Just the thought of it was enough to send a shiver of excitement up his spine. It had been too long since the last time he'd had sex, and he was hoping he would be able to while they were alone.

Alfred blushed as well upon seeing Arthur's reddened cheeks. If he was honest with himself, just thinking about the things he and Arthur could do at his apartment was enough to set his heart racing. It was racing to the point that he had to remind himself to breath as they sat together in the backseat of the car.

To the two patients, the ride to Alfred's apartment was excruciatingly long. Yet when the two were along, they awkwardly sat on the couch in silence for a few minutes before turning to one another.

"We're alone," the younger of the two stated, awkwardly glancing around the room as if it were his first time seeing it as well. "So, uh, is there anything you would like to do?"

Arthur then realized that the man next to him was too timid to make a move. It was up to him to make clear what he wanted to do. "We have a full hour to do whatever we want, uninterrupted," he slowly said. His cheeks flushed as he thought of the way to make his desires clear. He slowly placed a hand on Alfred's upper thigh and added a little bit of pressure, looking up at him. "What do you say we do some things we normally can't do?"

Alfred gulped before slipping an arm around his companion's waist, pulling him closer. After what he hoped was a discreet deep breath, he pressed his lips to the other man's. His entire body felt aflame when he felt Arthur kissing him back. He pulled him into his lap as their kisses became deeper and more desperate. Knowing that there was nothing stopping them from doing whatever they wanted to each other, they began to explore each other's bodies. In the safety of that apartment, there would be no consequences for being so close. They had nothing to fear.

Before things got too intense, Arthur made an effort to switch positions from the couch toward Alfred's bedroom. He grabbed the other man's hand and led him down the hall toward the bedroom. Neither of them even bothered to close the door after they entered the room together. Instead, the crashed down onto the bed, touching and kissing each other in any exposed areas, their clothes coming off at a rapid pace.

Once fully naked, the two men pulled away from each other but still held the other. They locked eyes, gazing longingly at each other. This was it. This was the moment the two would finally become one. It was what they had been waiting for, yet neither of them knew how to initiate the actual act once it truly came down to it.

Arthur was finally the one to make the move. He slowly lowered his head and delivered a soft, quick lick to the tip of the other man's member. His eyes filled with lust as he looked up at the other man before taking as much of it as he could into his mouth.

Overcome by lust and pleasure, Alfred squeezed his eyes shut, a moan escaping his lips. He tangled his fingers into the other man's blond locks as he continued to receive head from him. His heart was beating at a rapid-fire pace, his moans becoming louder and louder. Within moments, he had lost all sense of self and where he was, feeling as if he were completely taken over by this lustful sensation.

The Englishman suddenly stopped what he was doing and looked Alfred in the eyes, taking the other's hand and putting his fingers in his mouth, sucking on them. Once they were drenched in his saliva, he moved closer to his companion and moved the other's hand to his lower back.

Understanding what this action meant, the American took a deep breath and nodded. But before he inserted his fingers, he decided to open the drawer of his nightstand and pull out a bottle of lubricant instead. He quickly coated his fingers with it before pulling the other man into a passionate kiss and slipping his fingers inside of him.

Arthur tensed up for a moment at the sudden intrusion, but he got used to it pretty quickly. He wanted more, and he wanted it right then and there. A needy whine escaped his lips and continued, mixed with moans, until he felt Alfred's member slip inside of him.

That moment couldn't have been more perfect for the both of them. It was the moment they finally became one, and neither of them could contain the noises that escaped them as they made love for the first time. Sure, the two of them had sex multiple times, but to each of them, this felt different. It felt as if they were the only two in the world. Was this what making love was supposed to feel like? Was this what each of them had been missing? Words could not even begin to express how each man was feeling at that point.

It felt as if it were all over too soon. They laid side by side, wrapped in each other's embrace. Never in their lives had the two ever felt more connected to another person in such a way. It felt as if they had found what was truly missing for each of them. Mere words could never begin to describe what they felt toward each other at that point. Instead, they laid there in a comfortable silence, just cherishing the time they were spending together.

Alfred was the one who finally broke the comfortable silence between them. "Would you believe me if I told you that I have never felt as amazing as I do right now after sleeping with someone other than you?" He absently ran his fingers through Arthur's hair. "It's you, Arthur. You're what I've been missing."

Trying to find the proper words to string together a sentence, the Englishman placed his lover's hand over the left side of his chest. "Do you feel that?" he softly asked, pressing Alfred's hand down until he was certain the other man could feel his heartbeat. "You're the only man who could ever make my heart beat this wildly. I wouldn't have it any other way." He lifted himself slightly to lean over Alfred and press his lips to his. "After today, I've realized it. I don't want anyone else but you."

The American blinked his eyes in surprise, not expecting such a confession. "Does that mean that I've also been what was missing from your life as well?"

Arthur chuckled to himself, lying back onto the pillow he had been propped against. "I wouldn't say you're missing anymore, correct? You're right here beside me now." He side-eyed Alfred for a moment. "Unless you were to suddenly leave me…"

"Never," Alfred happily assured, grabbing his lover's hand.

"Then I would have to say yes, Alfred. You appear to be what I have been missing as well."

.

The hour was up before the two knew it, but the whole way back to the hospital they sat as close as they could get to each other, hands on the other's thighs, comfortably leaning against each other. They wished that they didn't have to go back to 1JPW, but at least each of them now felt they had a reason to work toward getting out of there.

That night, when it came time to prepare for bed, the two were reminded of what they had done together that afternoon and blushed as they changed into their pajamas. Neither of them felt shy anymore. In fact, they had never felt more comfortable with each other. It was an incredible new feeling that each man enjoyed. They knew that they had to be careful about their newfound love for each other, lest they be caught by the nurses. Or worse, a doctor.

Arthur was so happy that night that he even began humming as he changed and prepared for bed, something he hadn't done since before he moved to America. He never thought that he would ever be this happy again, yet there he was. The biggest thought on his mind at the time was, "Thank God I didn't die nearly a year ago!" If he had died, then he never would have met Alfred or the current happiness that he was feeling. It was so refreshing.

"I like it when you hum," Alfred commented as he brushed his teeth before bed. He smiled around the minty foam on the edges of his mouth. "It makes me feel like all is actually right in the world, you know? I hope you never stop humming."

"You think so?" Arthur asked, setting out the clothes he planned to change into in the morning. He smiled to himself, making sure Alfred couldn't see it. "I just feel as if everything is going to be okay from now on. It's rather difficult to explain why I currently feel that way. Do you feel it as well, or is it just me?"

After a moment, Alfred emerged from the bathroom. "I feel it too, man," he agreed, grinning. "God, I just hope we can get out of here soon. Then, we can do whatever we want, whenever we want without having to worry about getting caught and dealing with stupid consequences."

"Right," the Englishman agreed, rolling his eyes. Just the thought of getting punished for falling for his roommate at the hospital was enough to drive him mad. Maybe finding love was what he truly needed to get better after all. His heart had never felt lighter.

Then a thought came to his head. Dr. Wang and Dr. Edelstein would surely want an explanation as to why he was so happy. If he couldn't find a way to explain it, would they catch on to him and Alfred? What if they thought he seemed manic and classified him as a danger to himself or others? The list of possibilities grew larger and larger in Arthur's head until he felt he would suffocate just from thinking about it.

"You know," the American began, taking off his glasses and cleaning them, "I feel like everything is going to get much better pretty fast. Call it a hunch, but I feel that we won't be trapped here much longer. What do you say we both work our hardest to get out of this hell hole together?"

"I would like that," Arthur replied, smiling to his roommate. "That would be great, actually. Then we don't have to worry about authority anymore." He chuckled. "No one will be checking up on us every fifteen minutes or so either."

"Do you think you'll miss the nosy nurses?"

That caused Arthur to laugh louder. "Absolutely not!" he assured, grinning from ear to ear. "This is the best I've felt in my life. I feel as if there are only good things in store for us for awhile."

But unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.


End file.
